Of Wolves And Devils
by BitterSweetTeller
Summary: With Eyes Only getting stronger than ever, saving the world for good starts looking to be more than just a dream. But, the thing with the wolves and devils of the world...is that they don't stay down easy. A alternate Season 2 for the entire series. Rated Teen for strong language, strong suggestive content, drama, and revved up action.
1. Episode 1: Catz Gotta Play, Pt 1

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Side Notes: If you haven't seen or read about my fanfiction Fall of the Manticore, please do before reading this fanfiction. It'll make more sense this way, because it's a sequel to that fanfiction set as a second season to Dark Angel.

For understanding this fanfiction's continuity, there are a few quick things to note.

There are some moderate hints at my fanfiction VR-9. But, reading it is not required to read this fanfiction because it's revealed in brief when it gets there.

There are also no mainstream Dark Angel Season 2 episodes in any way in this. This is mostly all from scrap. But, if you want to watch or read about them anyway, you can.

Episode 1:

Early in the morning, in Seattle…

Surprisingly…Max is in front of Normal's white metal bars grid framed cubicle. Sounding more than a bit embarrassed, she says, "sorry 'bout earlier."

Normal uncomfortably adds, "don't mention it. Finally washed out all your intoxicated obnoxiousness from my shirt."

Max figures, "three seconds to not liking working here: A new record. Ohh. Yeah. And, I'm not anymore. You gotta find some more suckers to work for your pathetic rhythm-free ass. Later." She's already heading out, past the graffiti and the dark red lockers of yesteryear.

Normal calls back, "well, don't let the door hit you on the way…! Out. Wait. Is this a perverted joke your friends came up with just to mess with me? Because I have a business to…"

Max turns around. She bittersweetly remembers the times Original Cindy said she was out…and then came back after it fell through one way or another. Slightly amused, Max faintly chuckles, "no. For real."

Normal mutters, "well, then good riddance! Skell." Max heads out through the blocky concrete archway…never to look back.

Max thinks to herself, "yeah. I'm sure as hell not gonna be missing him anytime soon. Still…better to get that bitch over with before I let it kick me in the ass later."

Then, just as she leaves…Syl comes in from the corner. She introduces herself, "hey. You don't know me. But, I'm looking for a job."

A little too happy with himself for his own good, Normal figures, "well, what do you know? There's a spot that's just recently opened up. We're not officially open for another ten minutes. But, fill this out and you can get back to me tomorrow morning." He hands Syl a pale yellow fairly crumpled application.

Syl looks a little funny at it. But, she takes it anyway.

Normal wonders, "something wrong?" With a little unease, Syl says straight up, "say the inside perimeter of your work space could use a little work. Would that be too much to say?"

Surprised, Normal mostly assures her, "no: That's the first time anyone but me said anything like that. I would fix up the place more, if we had more money." Relieved in more ways than one, Syl slightly smiles, "fair enough." She heads out…swiftly disappearing from sight as bike messengers start checking in.

Normal slightly chuckles to himself. Then, he focuses back on work.

Later, twenty one miles out…

The sun is shining under the smog of the day. Max arrives on her motorcycle…screeching to a halt to the side of a wooden fashioned airstrip. She presses her Eyes Only International badge against a hidden hand pad…which only her cat like eyes can faintly spot without a special lens. It scans the badge and her hand simultaneously. And, a side door automatically opens like a elevator.

Max walks through, as it closes from behind. A pair of security cameras is on the other side, craftily facing directly through two way mirror glass windows from the high ceiling. And there to welcome her…is Logan: With a jet black jacket on over brown. He's leaning against the metal wall, like he often does these days. He says, "hey."

Playful like, Max slightly chuckles, "hey yourself."

Logan points out, "thought you weren't coming alone." Max slightly shrugs, "thought so too. We're all down for being part of your Eyes Only clubhouse for international kicking ass. But, give them some time."

Logan reflects, "still… Kind of a shame. I've been looking forward to being fully accepted in your circle of friends." He starts walking past a jet blue and red striped private plane. A crew of street tough like mechanics in blue and brown is going through last minute tests on the parts. Max walks with him, looking kind of perplexed by Logan than anything else.

Sounding more amused than perplexed, Max comments, "what the hell are you getting all embarrassed about? We were at Crash together, all sober and real like the Jetsons and crap."

Logan reasons, "sure. We all met at Crash. But, now that they know the face of Eyes Only…it's going to be different." He presses his hand and badge to a hidden hand pad on a workbench.

It scans the badge and his hand simultaneously. In mere seconds, the workbench and its sides flip down to become a switchboard of mostly jet black elevator controls and security controls. With the flip of two switches, Logan makes the blackish gray metal floor tiles under them lower into a basement level. Gears churn. Metal floor tiles slide in place to close the opening overhead like clockwork.

Casual like all the while, Max explains, "Original Cindy wanted me to come down and check if everything else is on the level here. Sketchy is sticking around at the "Hellhole of the West" to show Syl around things. And Herbal says it's "a opportunity given unto I by the Most High to rise above the wheels of Babylon". But, he's not much for the front lines."

Logan slightly chuckles, "I'm honored. You and Jetsons?" He flips a switch in the darkness...suddenly remembering that was how it works. The lights come on: Over a large concrete bunker Rec room, with marble colored flatscreen computers at every small wooden table, a ring of red and green couches, and a dark silvery refrigerator like Logan has.

Max remarks, "a girl's gotta have her childhood classics." She's already making herself at home, feet up over the edge of a red couch.

Leaning to the side of the refrigerator, Logan suggests offhandedly, "well…we got three quarters of a hour until the plane is ready. How's a early dinner sound?" Max slightly smiles back, "it's a date."

A few hours after, at Crash…

Sketchy, Original Cindy, and Herbal are at their special table from higher up, with carburetor like dark silver chairs. Original Cindy is in her jet black jacket over a sleek rhino like sleeveless undershirt. Herbal is in his dark red shirt. And, Sketchy has… Well, red, yellow, and blue streetlight sketches over sketch board white for a long sleeved shirt.

Sketchy turns to Syl, "so, what was all that about?" She's sitting next to him, looking a bit red in the face.

Trying to sound less awkward than she feels, Syl says, "I…heard word you and Normal don't get along well. I just wanted it to not turn into enemy territory."

Original Cindy remarks, "well…he's not "the enemy". He's just Normal: The Normal kind of trippin' cash bent boss that orders around guys like us."

Herbal adds, "think you mean instrument of the Most High, sista." Original Cindy smirks, "Original Cindy's got thinking all her own. But, it's all good."

A little rattled, Syl says, "sorry. But, why were you getting all half pissed about it then?"

Sketchy whispers something to her. It all suddenly hits Syl, "oh. Ohh. Now, that's just straight up gross: He's thirty three, and in his own army recruitment world!" Original Cindy nods, "hm-hmm. You lucky words is all there is. Trying to forget it myself." She drinks some from her glass of beer.

With a elbow up with a glass of beer, Syl comments, "same here."

Meanwhile, on a private plane going over the smog of Wyoming…

Gold leaf lining over dark blue makes up the layout. Several gray black armchairs are in center. Fiddling with her half drunk wine glass from her armchair, Max slightly chuckles, "kind of expensive for a half broke guy out at war with the world. Wouldn't you say?"

Sitting directly in front of her…is Sydney Bloom in a dark and neon blue plaid long sleeved open buttoned shirt over white: With a expensive looking briefcase making beep beep noises. Sydney hints, "maybe. Let's just say he's not the only one that can get rich in the world and leave it at that. For now, anyway."

Slightly amused, Max comments, "really? Must be some payout in it for you." A little impressed, Sydney adds, "maybe so."

Max thinks back to the here and now, "so, what's the dealio with this mission anyway?" Sydney reasons, "Logan said you'd ask me sooner or later. I can go over it with you now, if you'd like."

Max smirks, "and since when does Logan not let his "Dark Angel" in on Eyes Only missions first?" Sydney answers simply, "since I became field commander. He didn't tell you?"

Sarcastically, Max concludes, "ohh. I get it: This is getting back at me for turning him down all those months ago."

Reflectively, Sydney faintly chuckles, "Logan has his ways. But, he means well. You know?"

Max smiles back, "yep. Been there, scratched that itch." Sydney figures, "ouch." Max remarks, "I have feline DNA: I'll get over it. So, what's the mission this time? A warehouse full of guys that don't know how to roll over?" She puts her glass of wine in the cup tray to her left.

Sydney says in brief, "not exactly. See for yourself."

She opens her suitcase before handing it to Max. Max takes it…catching on that the suitcase itself is Sydney's computer.

It has a few manila folders of police reports in a left side slot. But, that's the only kind of physical files here. The bottom looks like a jet black VHS tape deck, with several VHS slots up instead of forward and full of micro-circuits. From the top half of the briefcase is two jet black phone like pads end to end, several antennas, a bundle of wires all over…and a flatscreen monitor with a sky blue wooden cabin screensaver.

A database similar to Logan's own pops up. On one of the digital files is a picture of a woman heavily in yellowish makeup with medium silver dyed hair over her right eye, with her face reconstructed through a mosaic like collection of pictures. Max figures offhandedly, "doesn't seem very accurate."

Not very surprised, Sydney slightly shrugs, "the best we could do on short notice. I put it together myself, from some shots from a testimony she made five months ago in North Lousiana. Her name is Daisy Brooks. A stripper down south in Slimelock. A close friend of hers was shot down by sector police a week prior, caught selling some cryogenics on the black market. And understandably…it hit pretty close to home for her."

Max comments, "and what? She just happened to find a good payphone? Even Slimelock has no payphones." Sydney explains, "no: All the crime bosses carry cellular phones at all times. And, a close personal friend of hers paid one off in hard cash to use it. The friend wouldn't give out a name: Just that they're convinced that Daisy is being blackmailed to take the blame for a Mister Foivann." Max figures, "so they paid off another crime boss, who was more than happy to let them call out to you to eliminate some of the competition."

Sydney puts it simply, "doesn't mean I have to like it. But…pretty much. For three months, sector police in North Louisiana have been brutally murdered. Five so far. A investigation was called for. But, with South Lousiana run by crime bosses…they can't bring anyone in for questioning. So, they've been bringing in travelers from South Lousiana to take it out on. Half of them came back, beaten up. Half of them didn't. And, if the murders continue… Moderate sigh. We're looking at a floodgate to all out war."

Max glances down at Sydney's computer, "and you got all this just from dial-up?" A little nervous sounding, Sydney says, "yeah. They have a lot of muscle. But, a lot of their computers are as cheap as a box of crayons: Dial-up modems all the way."

Max slightly smiles, "nice." Sydney adds, "yeah, thanks. Can I get my computer back now?" Max shrugs, "knock yourself out." She hands Sydney back her computer briefcase.

Sydney continues, "faint chuckle. I'll try not to take you literally. Unfortunately…their computer memory is just as faulty. All records are put in storage every two weeks. So, we don't have all the answers." All the while, Max is looking out the airplane window. She comments, "that's been my life story right there. So…same old same old really."

Sydney highlights, "well…here's hoping history doesn't repeat itself." Max turns back to her, "thanks." Sydney faintly smiles, "no sweat."

Five hours later, in South Louisiana…

Rain has overflowed the wetlands and swamps, reducing the entire state to island neighborhoods and buildings where hills once stood high. The sunset is fading out. The coming night air is cloudy with a heavy damp like feel.

Cryogenically slowed solid yellow and light green waterways, watermills, and cryogenic medical facilities run the cities for super cheap. North Lousiana further up north has turned to industrial oil and cryogenic medical facilities, long after the Pulse in the wake of Hurricane Katrina. With things more southern like in South Louisiana though, crime bosses spanning from the Caribbean to Canada got their foot in the door with double edged promises of respect and financial assurance. And, the neighborhood of Slimelock is one of the worst.

Slimelock is where most of the "slime" of crime go to take in the nightlife. Only trees have survived from the massively repulsive amounts of greenish brown filth that the crime bosses around could care less about. Jobs pay high. But, it's either being a stripper, a henchman, or a slave for hire: No fourth option. Most of the Cajun people and the like avoid Slimelock like the devil.

Max's cover is of a henchwoman named "Lawless" Kylie, who recently has flown overseas from Canada to start working for Mister Foivann "earlier than expected". He's never seen the real woman's face: Only a blurred out image of a face. And thanks to Sydney, she's recently been locked up. All Max had to do is put on a dark red catsuit…and a pair of "Lawless" Kylie's signature dark red rifles on a dark yellow belt that she made very clear she has no intention of using.

Her first stop: A strip club. But, not the one Daisy works at.

Spinning wooden wheels with half naked and humiliated slaves in wet white underwear and stockings tied to the pegs are the nightly sickly spectacle. Green tree like spray painted walls and fold out wooden branch patterned walls surround each wooden wheel, with tables between the branching out rooms. As Max walks in…the song Magic from the Pussycat Dolls plays a happy tune amidst the not so happy cards of crime.

Mister Foivann is sitting there, in all black and with spiked up jet black hair. A gold keychain with a cracked cd on it hangs from his neck. And, two nervous looking ladies in black gowns are cozied up to him: One with curly long red hair, one with curly long dyed jet black hair. Smooth sounding, Mister Foivann says, "so glad you could make it. Why don't you have a seat? Take in a few lovelies?"

Holding back her disgust, Max sits down across him. In a French accent, she insists, "I'm straight. I don't do that kind of work."

With a hand out, Mister Foivann figures, "too bad. Let's talk work." The lady with curly dyed jet black hair gives him a then open glassy yellow bottle of Yukon Jack. Max adds, "better."

Mister Foivann drinks straight from the bottle. Then he puts it down in front with half of it gone. He sighs to himself, feeling relaxed all over again. He exposits, "let's get one thing settled, "Lawless" Kylie. Just cause there's no police doesn't mean there's no rule to speak of. Whatever you do outside of work does not concern me. But, you don't show respect…and you'll be waking up with a bullet in your head."

Max scoffs, "like one of your guys can do better. You hired me to be your sharp shooter: I don't have to take this crap!" She turns to leave.

Mister Foivann slightly laughs, "only a little test, Kylie. And you've passed. And, sharp. I like that." Max turns back to him. She's read up on Kylie's recent arrest records before coming, with Sydney's computer files.

She slightly smiles, "one of the few things we actually share. Where do I start?"

Mister Foivann goes on, "with this Catholic protestor. Hate their guts. Hate the little God man in the sky trying to crash down on my business. Go up the stairs from behind: You can't miss him." He motions behind him, with his elbow just resting there. A spiral branch like set of stairs is indeed in that direction.

Max slightly laughs, "sounds pathetic. Now we're talking business." As she starts up, Mister Foivann says, "sure I can't persuade you to take in some guys and a show?"

Looking amused, Max figures, "unless you're offering henchmen asses for ass kicking… I doubt it." Mister Foivann considers carefree like, "could be next." Max faintly smiles back, "sounds like a party."

She closes the fold out wooden screens behind her…as she comes in to a room with a tied up, gagged, and heavily bruised Catholic priest on a spinning wooden wheel. His ripped away robes are to the side. His eyes are full of fear. Some guys in spray painted tree green are just leaving.

One of them says, "all yours." He hands Max a worn out brown sickly smelling sack. Max adds dryly, "yeah, yeah. Get out!" The last guy runs out. As soon as they're all gone, Max closes the wooden screens.

She takes a quick glance over the room. There's no bugs. But, she hears some men playing cards on the other side of one of the walls. Max takes out one of her comlinks and smashes it under her foot. The priest reactively screams under his gag. Max can hear some faint laughter beyond the walls. Max whispers, "sorry. Had to look like I'm doing my "job"."

She unties the gag before the very confused priest. He starts breathing hard, "a…angel?" Max urges, "no time for a confession. Just get in the sack and hold your breath. I'm getting you out. You understand? Nod if you understand." The priest nods.

Max slightly smiles, "good. This should help." She hands him what's left of his robes to wrap around his lower body. Then, she opens up the sack for him. Wasting no time, Max run charges up the stairs for the nearest backside wooden balcony. With the sack over her shoulder, Max high jumps off. She tumble lands onto her feet, in a pile of greenish brown filth. She sighs to herself, "great: Right into crap!"

Max opens up the bag, letting the priest go. The priest calls back, "bless you!" Max waves back, before breaking into a run.

She then thinks to herself, "sure. The world will be a little less broken now. I get that. Now, if I could just get the crap out of this catsuit's ass…this bitch is good all around."

Max steps into a light blue bricked apartment, after landing from a high jump on to part of a circling around ring of a wooden balcony. She closes the wooden windowed screens behind her. A few candles dimly light the fancy hotel suite setup: With a jet black old fashioned TV set in a wooden cupboard and turned off neon sign decor of red lined stars in front of a big casino styled bed. And in the bed are the figures of two men with dark medium hair and a woman with darker short hair: Daisy's "very close" friends, making out and stuff.

Hearing footsteps, they pause. One of the men turns in Max's direction, "what? Does that not jive with you?"

Max slightly chuckles, "you're good: Just a average crappy night in the life of me. Where's Daisy?" She's going into the closet to change into her very dark gray catsuit. Not far off is a identical bed. But, with one long lighter haired woman sleeping soundly on top.

The second guy figures, "next bed over. You're Max?" Max adds, "yep." He says, "about damn time too."

Early the next morning…

Daisy Brooks is hunched over the balcony, with a fogged out lighthouse upon a white sleeveless top and her silver hair over her right eye. The rain is starting to come down, thundering against the mudding cobblestone roads and dripping over waterways. Max points out, "you look cold. Maybe you could come back in." She's in a ripped and torn dark blue sleeveless top, with yellow motorcycle light like yellow strips painted on by her own two hands.

Daisy Brooks looks a little chilly. She slowly turns to Max, "no: It'll pass. Slight chuckle. And how about you? You're sure up early."

Max stands over the railing herself. She faintly chuckles, "I don't sleep. Besides…your friends are worried about you." Daisy Brooks says admittedly, "sometimes I can't sleep either. Their hearts are in the right place. But, they don't have to be so worried: I get over it like anyone else."

Max implies, "well, I'm not like your average girl. I don't worry "so easy"."

Sounding more serious toned, Daisy Brooks asks, "then what did you come out for? To ask about me and Mister Foivann?" A little surprised, Max says straight up, "actually…yes. So, why don't you just let me in on what's doing so this nosy bitch can head on back home?"

Daisy Brooks heavily sighs, "you promise you won't tell my friends?"

Max assures her, "yeah. I got your back. Go ahead and spill."

After taking a deep breath, Daisy Brooks discloses, "I was upset when Luke was shot. And yeah: We all kind of grew to hate sector police after. I never killed those guys up north. But, everything we have now…all the freedom we got… Heavy sigh. …makes putting up with Foivann's deal a small price to pay."

Kind of awkward sounding now, Max deduces, "so he didn't just put your name up in lights at some fancy night club: He gave you all a place to crash." Daisy Brooks figures, "yeah. Wandra and Galarin…they weren't as lucky as me. If he gets locked up…they might as well be left for dead in this town. I'm sorry I can't help. But, it's all we really got."

Optimistic like, Max suggests, "don't be so sure. I can get you that kind of money: Enough for all of you to fly out. Without the Mister." Daisy Brooks faintly smiles, "yeah: That would be damn nice. That would also take a miracle. You sure you can pull it off…I'll come out clean about the whole thing."

Max remarks, "well, then start packing: Because, the war's not yet over."

Into the coming night…

Blurs of darkness and headlights whiz by, through Max's cat like eyes. Her leg spin kicks into two guys in green sweaty tops and jet black gloves. They crash into some splintering apart crates.

One of them tries to shoot her from behind. But, she high jumps high over to punch him down by the arm length. The pistol goes flying. So does the other guy, straight into the swampy water.

Another blur goes by of Max hopping into his dark brown rimmed jeep…taking off back around for Mister Foivann's favorite club.

Not particularly long after…

Max drives the jeep for a pile of brownish green filth. She tumbles out the door with a brownish sack of cold hard cash. The jeep crashes into a wall on the other side. Trash goes flying in gasoline flames. And Max just walks away like it's nothing.

Over comlink, Max reports, "I'm almost to the site. Got anything?"

Over communications, Sydney reluctantly says, "I don't know what I got." Max exclaims lowly, "what?!"

Sydney is under a red graffiti covered gray concrete structured bridge, on her computer down in Seattle. Red and blue 16-bit dots are all over the screen, blinking on and off amidst stars over the Earth's surface. Sydney admits, "satellites aren't exactly my specialty. So, I hacked into the International Space Station. But… There's just so much junk out there: Just there in space interfering with the readout! Sigh! Deep breath. You know something? This was a lot easier when Logan was running things."

Sympathetically, Max adds, "I feel you. Let's just get this bitch over with."

Sydney starts to say, "ri…gh..t…" Then…static.

Max checks, "Sydney? Sydney?! Dammit!"

On the other side…

Sydney checks, "Max? Max?! Sigh! Nothing." She dials some numbers on the phone like pads. Sydney presses a ctrl button to the left. And, the computer rings. She pulls out one of the phone like pads, holding it up to her ear.

She makes her call, "Logan? It's me: Sydney Bloom. Yeah. And…I think I'm going to need your help on this. Thank you. Just hurry." She places the phone like pad back in to hang up.

Back with Max…

She looks around, fully alert. She's moving around the back of one of many apartments, with only a few feet of island between her and the swampy waters.

And standing there…is Daisy Brooks: Vibrating…and with ripped seams of rubber skin around her shoulders. Only with cat like eyes though is it very noticeable. Very much stunned, Max asks, "what kind of whack job are you?"

In a more mechanical creepy voice, Daisy Brooks says, "Daisy is in good hands: Not to worry. We just take much nǔlì to stay under radar. But, we wanted to draw you out from under radar: Know what side you are really on."

Max puts down the sack of money. She asks warily, "why me?"

The mystery figure says, "you go by Max Guevera. You are also known as X5-452. You are seeing a man who runs Eyes Only by name of Logan Cale. Need we go on?" Fairly shaken, Max urges, "will you just get to the damn point?!"

The mystery figure states mechanically, "let us just say we have been present for years. But, only in recent time have we found you out: What you can do. Who you are. We know you want the world to be free: Free of Manticore and sector police. As do we. Become one of us…and you can find freedom like you've never dreamt was possible." She offers a rubber skinned hand to her.

Max backs away...as the final piece comes together. She realizes, "so it's been you who's been killing cops! All this time…Mister Foivann was covering for your whack asses. And him with Daisy!" The mystery figure reveals openly, "that bì will pay out plenty: Help the good people up North buy up plenty on the black market for the coming war. We hope you won't be on the weaker side."

Max mutters coldly, "then we got a problem. Cause none of them were dirty. And, being on my bad side is not a good side to be standing on." Sounding hurt, the mystery figure mutters back, "your funeral…Max Guevera."

Max tries to punch her. But, she bends 120 degrees backwards: Impossible by human standards of anatomy. Mechanical whirls sound off. In seconds…she kicks Max with both legs without even pushing off the ground. She crashes into the wall…falling into a red bricked bathroom through shards of a sink.

The back of her head and back are covered in deep dark red cuts. Max shakes and groans violently…her vision starting to blur like never before. Max mutters, "that the…violent cough…best you got?" The mystery attacker just walks over the shards like they're just plastic, letting them break under her rubber feet.

She grabs Max by the wrist as she tries to punch at her. And…she swings Max straight through a white bathroom stall.

Max feels painful seizures running through her pulsing sobbing body: Unable to resist the powerful instinct to crouch against her shaking knees, and feeling the worst kind of helplessness creeping up on her. And, the mystery figure stands over her…ready to finish it.


	2. Episode 2: Catz Gotta Play, Pt 2

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 2:

Previously…

Max tried to punch the mystery figure. But, she bent 120 degrees backwards: Impossible by human standards of anatomy. Mechanical whirls sounded off. In seconds…she kicked Max with both legs without even pushing off the ground. She crashed into the wall…falling into a red bricked bathroom through shards of a sink.

The back of her head and back were covered in deep dark red cuts. Max shook and groaned violently…her vision starting to blur like never before. Max muttered, "that the…violent cough…best you got?"

The mystery attacker just walked over the shards like they're plastic, letting them break under her rubber feet. She grabbed Max by the wrist as she tried to punch at her. And…she swung Max straight through a white bathroom stall.

Max felt painful seizures running through her pulsing sobbing body: Unable to resist the powerful instinct to crouch against her shaking knees, and feeling the worst kind of helplessness creeping up on her. And, the mystery figure stood over her…ready to finish it.

Presently…

At the last possible second…Max forces her pulsing body to make a move.

She high jump flips back, kicking up into her attacker's head with both legs. A trail of dark red liquid and motor oil flies up from her neck.

The cold cryogenic run water rising out from the plumbing left over the shards of sink is already several inches over the bathroom floor.

Max falls back in mid-kick…as her body gives out to passing out. But, her attacker falls into the water.

She finds herself coughing motor oil and dark red liquid on reflex, as the water around her gets redder and redder. She closes her eyes…just as sparks of fried circuitry courses through her nervous system.

The water runs under the bathroom door…as footsteps seem to echo on and on forever in Max's head in those seconds of consciousness.

Back in Seattle…

Logan is back in his apartment, and back on his computer. He says, "good thing you called."

Sydney is standing there, against a wooden framed Chinese screen doorframe. She uneasily cuts to the point, "yeah. So, what did you dig up?"

Logan is looking through satellite feed off of the Caribbean islands, reconfigured temporarily to oversee and triangulate movements of everyone in South Louisiana. He narrows the search down for anyone carrying two dark red rifles. And…he zooms in on the only sighting of such a description: At a cryogenic hospital in bright green paint, with cryogenically slowed waterways coming in and out of it like a subway map.

A little more than slightly nervous, Logan puts together, "looks like a woman…matching Max's description was found brutally beaten twenty three minutes ago. Recently picked up by our "charming" Mister Foivann."

Worried, Sydney starts to question, "is she…?" Logan answers, "she's been placed in Cryogenic Hospital number 17, southeast side of Slimelock. Take it they never cared much to give them names. But, from what I'm gathering from hospital records…her vital signs are promising."

Now standing over his shoulder, Sydney slightly chuckles in partial relief, "guess that makes it more easy for us then."

Logan slightly sighs, "still leaves one unsolved mystery though. If Max got this close to stopping the killer…why would he try to help her back on her feet if he was responsible?"

Sydney shrugs, "stress can do numbers on your mind. Maybe that's all there is to it." Logan figures, "yeah. Possibly. Except…your intelligence found no sign of mental instability from him. So, that can't be it."

Sydney realizes, "which means he's working with someone."

Logan adds, "exactly. The only question is…who is?" Sydney points out, "I'd like to know the answer to that question myself. But, whoever it is… They're bound to show up and try again. And, we're running out of time."

Logan firmly says, "not if I can help it." He walks over to his jet black home phone, and starts to dial a number.

Sydney wonders curiously, "who are you calling?" Logan cryptically says, "someone that doesn't mind working late hours."

In a cryogenic hospital room…

The concrete bluish walls have almost all their paint worn off. Medics are down to their rags, due to lack of clothes. But, they're well treated otherwise.

Down the halls are the guards. They work for several crime bosses, as a eerie check and balance of sorts. Some wear green sweaty tops and black gloves, with black market red fragmentation grenade bombs. Some wear jet black undershirts under matching military grade padded armor.

Max's unconscious body lies in a open cryogenic Jacuzzi like chamber, still in the dark red catsuit. And, with suction cupped wires coming from twentieth century monitoring equipment.

But, her regenerative Manticore blood is doing all the healing. The deep cuts are mostly gone. But, two big purplish bruises and three deep cuts are still across her side and in her back.

The medic with medium messy black hair watching over her is just watching: More than content to just have something resembling a lunch break for his work. He's in a wooden fold out chair, looking through a early 2000's car magazine with half naked women and dark blue and silver cars.

Out the room's only dusty window…the day is giving rise to early dawn. Rain pours over the overflowing waterways. Red cone roadblocks with very dark brown and very dark green tarps over them block the flooding areas, letting the water fall back into the cryogenic contaminated waters like many times before. Only bizarre sea life of the deep, alligators, and crocs are left alive: When they're not being hunted for food and tarp.

Max faintly opens her eyes…slowly taking in all the details she can see. She immediately gets the faint impression that a hour and a half has passed: At the very least. And then…the rest of her body catches up to her.

She coughs violently. But, it feels less worse than before. And, that's enough for Max at the moment. She mutters under her breath, "damn, I'm cold!"

The medic looks over his magazine: A little startled. But, it quickly fades. In Cajun French, he comments, "not much we can do for that, I'm afraid."

Max slightly sighs. In a cold manner, she says, "right. Now that you're not engrossed in your little peep show… Care to tell me where I am?" With her parallel processing and cat like eyes…she pieces together the dialect on the fly.

A little surprised, the medic uneasily adds, "yeah. Sure. You won't tell them or nothing. Right?" Max can't help but roll her eyes at this. But, she says, "sure. Whatever. Just tell this bitch what's up."

A little more relaxed now, the medic explains, "you're in Cryogenic Hospital number 17. Mister Foivann had his people bring you here. But, looks like we needed no operations or nothing. Faint chuckle. I don't know how you do it. But, you've got some miracle body there." Max slightly smiles, "yeah. Doctors love to charge me for it all the same though."

The medic points out, "no worries there. Mister Foivann paid for everything already. All we need to know is when you're ready to go back." With a hand behind her head, Max adds, "sounds good. Can I get some food?"

The medic figures, "yeah. I'll get a maid over." He starts dialing some numbers on a white home phone.

Meanwhile, over in Slimelock…

Mister Foivann is in his sky plastered apartment: In his imported in dark red grated steambath with his two ladies. All topless. The steam is going…when his cellular phone rings.

He turns down the flower like red handle for the steam pumps, letting the steam start to fade. Mister Foivann looks to them, "looks like you got some time to yourselves. But, behave." They both nervously nod.

Mister Foivann grabs a sky blue towel, wrapping it around himself. He goes over to his matching bed, where his honey swirl styled cellular phone is. And, he picks it up. Less smooth sounding, Mister Foivann says, "yeah?"

Over the phone, a mechanical sounding voice mutters, "our deal has gone off on the radar." Glaring out to the sky beyond, Mister Foivann asks, "whose?"

The mechanical sounding voice interposes, "the sector police. Turns out Kylie is a undercover police woman. Killed one of our own people too."

Mister Foivann mutters, "from North Louisiana, no doubt."

The mechanical sounding voice voices, "now you're catching on. Fortunately, she's the only yī that knows. All we have to do is kill her, drop the body on their doorstep…and let those zhòu mà police come to us."

Slightly laughing, Mister Foivann figures chillingly, "I'll send one of my best guys right over." He hangs up.

Not long after…

Max is eating reheated smothered steak from a plastic tray plate lunch of rice and gravy. She sits up in the Jacuzzi like cryogenic chamber as she does, not wanting to look sexually inviting or weak to anyone.

Max comments, "it's all right. Could use some more muscle though."

The medic slightly sighs, "you just can't go a minute without going on hating on something. Can you?" Max remarks, "this bitch got opinions. Don't like? Don't engage. Don't let the door hit you on the way out." The medic rolls his eyes, turning back over to his magazine.

Coming down the hall…is Mister Foivann's hitman: Codename Archangel. He just walks in: No receptionist required. He's a guy in a jet black sweaty top, a silvery radiation suit issue gas mask, and jet black shoulder pads: With a ton of fragmentation grenades on a great big sash over a lot of muscle, like he's just asking to start a fight.

In a very husky voice, Archangel calls out, "Kylie! Come out, come out. I got a message for you."

Max sees and hears exactly who's there, seconds before he gets to the room.

But, just as she's about to bolt… A dark red striped package smashes through the window. Smoke bursts out, smothering the room in bluish smoke. The medic runs out the back doorway in a panic.

Max turns around for a second. And, down below…is Sketchy: With her rebuilt motorcycle, shiny like it was the night before the fall of Manticore and the explosion never happened. He calls out, "hey, Max! I got us our ticket out."

In memory flashes, of a call in the not too distant past…

Sydney wonders curiously, "who are you calling?" Logan cryptically says, "someone that doesn't mind working late hours." He picks up the receiver.

Sydney adds, "I'll be in the other room, keeping a eye on things." Logan nods, "sure." Sydney goes over to his computer.

Logan turns back to the receiver in hand, "yeah? Sketchy?"

Over the phone, Sketchy adds, "yeah?" He's in the dark, in the unseen bed in his white blocky concrete apartment. And, he sounds like he's half asleep. But, he doesn't look too tired.

Logan explains, "I need you to do a late night delivery for me." Sketchy wonders offhandedly, "ok. How much are we talking?"

Logan gets to the point, "it's Eyes Only business. Max is in trouble." Sketchy suddenly realizes, "ohh. Right. Sure. No problem. And…what am I bringing exactly?"

Logan figures, "most of that is up to you. I appreciate anything you can do."

A little uneasily, Sketchy concludes, "sure. I'll figure out something. What's the catch?"

Logan says, "I need you to deliver Max's motorcycle to her. Won't be long before a kingpin tries to pull out the welcome mat from under her feet, along with whatever ride she got. You know?"

Sketchy starts to reason, "I hear you…" Logan adds, "but?"

Sketchy reasons, "but… Moderate sigh. You know, she'd kill me if I even so much as touched her bike. And, I like the wishful thinking of my feet and the rest of me not landing in a great big pile of shit for once. You know?"

With a slight chuckle, Logan mostly assures him, "well, just tell her it was me that put you up to it. Let me worry about how I land. All right?"

Sketchy figures, "all right. You think you can do better? Go right ahead."

Logan comments sarcastically, "thanks Sketch."

Sketchy remarks, "hope you've got a will all planned out for when Eyes Only needs another man behind it." He nervously adds, "it wouldn't be asking too much to add one more name to it. Would it?"

Logan mutters lowly, "good night, Sketch." He hangs up.

Presently…

Max's relief almost completely dissipates, when she notices her motorcycle and motorcycle helmet with him. She is tempted to glare back. But, she has a more immediate concern: Surviving.

Two fragmentation grenades go off…splintering the entire room to concrete shards and debris. The Jacuzzi like cryogenic chamber bursts out into rubble. Max grabs the nearest ragged window curtain and swings straight through the cryogenic mess, kicking Archangel fast and hard. All the while, Max slightly chuckles, "not even trying to hide your pathetic "manliness". How's that looking for you, with metal razors up your butt?"

Archangel grabs her in midair, bringing her down the hall with his violently crashing body. But, Max pretty much wanted to get him angry enough to do it. Sketchy calls out nervously, "Max! You all right up there?!"

Max tumbles off of Archangel, getting back to her feet. With some violent coughs, Archangel laughs, "haven't got none. But, you could use some: Courtesy of Mister Foivann."

Max calls back, "I'll be right down!"

She takes out a snatched fragmentation grenade, and runs like hell. Max fake sighs, "aww. Guess I'll have to take it back: It's not my color."

She jump run flips off of the wall…as she hurls the grenade right into Archangel's chest. All just when the guys in military grade padded armor start shooting with rifles blazing. A trail of dark red liquid flies up from the slain Archangel…as the falling debris falls upon him.

The fragmentation brings down a good chunk of the hall on the guards as well: Giving Max a running start out the nearest window.

She lands on the ground with ease. Lights go off like firecrackers on the second floor, as Max rushes over towards Sketchy.

Sketchy comments, "you know, you seem in pretty good shape for a woman who needs saving." Max starts hunching over, trip tumbling over her lingering exhaustion catching up to her. She pulls herself over her motorcycle, while warningly glaring at him.

Max mutters lowly, "just shut up, and let this bitch drive her Ninja."

Gunshots go off from the pursuing guards, getting closer and closer. Sketchy concedes, "all right! All right." He gets in the back as Max takes off.

The gunshots graze off the motorcycle's back edge. But, Max cuts around two piles of greenish brown filth. And, by the time the guards force their way through…Max is already gone. One of them mutters, "shit!"

Several minutes after…

Sketchy asks, "ok. Now what?" Max is speeding down one of many small winding dock styled bridges, towards a little island with three trees. Two islands of water towers stand to either side of two more dock styled bridges: Lazily cobbled together in a compacted mess of hanging over dark green tarps, with countless waterways coming down from under.

Max figures, "now…we knock." Sketchy tries to point out, "you're going back to where you got your ass handed to you? Are you crazy?!"

Max slightly rolls her eyes, "no, Sketch: Back to the room and board."

Over communications, Logan comments, "still… That is crazy, Max: Even for you! You'll be walking in with a target on your back. And, in your present condition, that's saying something right there." He's back at his computer.

Max highlights, "and that's exactly why they won't see it coming. The whack job that attacked me had military intelligence to a science. And, there's probably more where that came from."

Logan sighs, "and, you really sure I can't talk you out of this?"

Max comments, "not unless you're flying in a Monolith. What's the safest way back?" Logan adds, "sorry. Afraid we're fresh out of space rocks."

Max smirks, "cute."

Sketchy butts in, "if you two "super geniuses" are done…don't we have some unfinished business before we blaze?"

Logan brings himself back to the present, "umm… Yeah. Give me a second." He opens his satellite feed backdoor on the bluish computer screen, along with a smaller window for a wall of numbers and records.

Logan concludes, "there we are. Make a wide turn past the water tower to your right. Then, keep going straight for three more islands. According to our intelligence gathered from the past two weeks…the guards for the gates of Slimelock are on a two hour rotation. The next rotation is seven o'clock. You got a four minute window if you make it by then."

Max adds, "thanks."

Logan figures, "no problem. Just be careful." Max slightly smiles, "I will." She turns tight around for the water tower on the right.

Sketchy remarks, "for real, Max? Because, I just risked life and limb to come here. And, I got limits as a "genetically inferior" guy. You know?"

Max voices, "for real. But, after we get back to Seattle…I'm taking it out on your ass for taking my motorcycle."

Sketchy brings up his point, "hey! Don't go blaming me. All right? Logan is the one who put me up to it anyway."

Max makes her wide turn around the water tower. She thinks out loud, "well… I'll let it slide just this once. But, you're paying for my back wheel getting all shot up. Got it?"

Knowing better than to argue, Sketchy nods, "done." Max figures, "glad we understand each other then."

Not very long after…they get to the metal gates. The time is about 0800. Max takes out a grenade from her waterlogged belt, and hurls it into them. They explode off the hinges. Max speeds on through, with a minute to spare.

Back at Daisy's apartment…

The candles look to be gone. The lights are out. And across the floor are a lot of plastic bags: Packed with clothes and food and everything else.

Past the cleared out closet… A familiar like figure with medium hair is sitting on the floor, praying with his back to the balcony in front of a single candle.

Seconds later… Two guys in jet black undershirts under matching military grade padded armor come in from the balcony. They let their jet black backpack parachutes automatically retract. One of them mutters, "don't worry. You'll be in Heaven before you know it." He has a sniper gun.

To his surprise though…he realizes it's not their target. Max slightly sighs, "didn't you take Reconnaissance 101? Cause this isn't Heaven: This is Hell."

She tumble jump side kicks back the guy with the sniper gun, sending him crashing into the glass door behind. He passes out in seconds, with dark red cuts all over. Reaching for his gun, the second guy calls out, "who the hell are you?!"

Max cuts to the chase, "your boss thought you could grease Galarin for being onto the "wannabe" Daisy from start to finish, while a escort ushers out the rest of Daisy's friends over to join her all expense vacation to keep quiet. But, this is how it's all going to go down." All the while, she's beating the surprised guy up like it's nothing. The gun falls away.

She holds him up by the throat, with many bruises on his scared little face. In German, the guy nervously says, "I don't want to die! Violent cough! I just came in…violent cough…looking for a paycheck to feed my kids! Please. Please. I'm begging you! Please."

Max slightly chuckles creepily, "first time for everything. All right. I'll make it real easy for you then. We pay you off for ratting out your boss. And you and your kids get to fly out to any country far away from here."

She lets him go, letting him back on his feet.

Confused and relieved all at once, he asks her, "ok. Who's "we"?" Max smiles bittersweetly.

Late in the afternoon…

Past the flywheel hybrid systems of industrial and hydraulic to the North…

Down the super polished city streets and wildlife preserve gates of a squeaky clean looking past…

There's a mostly marble white Congress styled police station with pale red brick walls. And on the foot of the marble steps...is Mister Foivann: Tied up, and with a brown sickly smelling sack over his head.

He's brought in by the Louisiana State Police, in their light yellow lined dark blue uniforms and sheriff like hats. One of them comments, "if only all mob bosses were this easy." Some of them faintly chuckle.

Once the sack is removed… They realize Mister Foivann has already passed out from the very smell of it. With a extra pair of white gloves, a second police officer immediately takes them off: After handling the sack.

He sighs, "Christ! That smells." They're in a very dark interrogation room, with smeared and chipped sewer greenish white tiles and a black table.

A third police officer smirks, "they all smell in Hell, man. They all do."

The first police officer mutters, "yeah. But, I for one am sick of the smell! And, people are really starting to talk. You know?" The third police officer comments, "oh, that? Slight smirk. Everyone blames the Louisiana State Police for their depression. This is no different."

The first police officer mutters back, "oh, it is. Enough southern lowlife disappear, and their friends are coming out with guns to blow our blessed heads off! I say we just dump him and the other bodies over. No more disappearances. No more talk."

The second police officer figures reluctantly, "he's got a point, man." The third police officer concludes chillingly, "all right! But, we're making a example of him. He doesn't deserve to just be forgotten." He's about to shoot Mister Foivann…when a very familiar voice pierces through the room.

Through the only glass window…is a video bulletin on the TV. Eyes Only announces, "Do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Freedom Streaming Video Bulletin. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. And, it's the only free voice left in Louisiana. Mister Foivann may be out of the playground. But, he is not the only cold blooded murderer in town. That's right. I'm talking about nine disappearances of innocent South Louisiana tourists: All just a cover story for dirty cops. This videotape is more than enough evidence for a conviction."

The third police officer shouts, "oh, go to Hell! We cut the feed, you lying bastard!" The second police officer uneasily realizes, "he's not. Look."

Eyes Only figured they would've cut the security feed. The body of Mister Foivann has been bugged this whole time, with a endoscope acting as a camera. And, as if on cue…the endoscope footage appears on the screen.

The entire conversation replays: In foggy, but clear enough resolution.

The third police officer motions, "come on. Let's go before…!" Police officers start surrounding the room. The glass window shatters from several warning shots. One of them calls out, "drop your weapons! Now!"

Eyes Only continues, "sure. The police department can get real dirty. But, I think your boss won't take too kindly to working with murderers. So, if I were you…I'd stand down so I can at least get some decent meals before my sentence."

The murdering police officers shakily drop their weapons. The last thing they wanted was to kill their own officers. They're left speechless…as they're handcuffed and escorted out of the interrogation room.

Meanwhile…

Lying on Mister Foivann's former bed…are his former ladies in dark red dresses. The bed's sheets are white and purple polka dotted. And, the sky plastered walls are getting all the spray paint scraped off.

In front of the bed is a old fashioned TV. The Eyes Only video bulletin finishes, "now, everyone else can start playing nicely in the playground for a change." It cuts out then, returning to the Canadian TV station YTV.

In Cajun French and a kind of deep voice, the woman in dyed red figures solemnly, "about damn time someone did." In Cajun french and a more drawn out voice, the woman in dyed black says, "I hear that. Wonder what's on now."

On screen, a narration by a certain purplish blue guardian sprite named Bob starts going, "I come from the Net. Systems, people, cities…to this place: Mainframe. My format: Guardian." A collection of cyberspace styled clips and colorful scenes of sprites come and go, before a certain logo spells out ReBoot.

The woman in dyed black figures, "damn nice."

The woman in dyed red comments, "least some things are still classy around this hellhole. I mean, can you imagine if it became a Tron rip-off?" The woman in dyed black shakes her head, "now, that'd be just sad."

Back in Logan's apartment…

Logan is sitting on his couch, looking over to Max.

The seizures only fully started up again after her body returned to normal feeling and temperature: After she came back. But, she's recently taken her meds. She's now looking out the window, out to the smoggy sky.

A little nervously, Logan asks, "how's my revved up girl holding up?"

Not even turning around, Max figures, "more than they will…once I know what whack jobs they even are. Oh yeah. And, you don't get to call me that all the time." She's teary eyed. But, she doesn't want to let the tears fall: Not ever. And, not ever again.

Logan stands up. He realizes, "you're scared, aren't you?"

Max slightly turns to him, "you know this bitch too well to ask, Logan. But, wherever they are…I'm seeing this bitch through: Rubber skin and all." Logan adds confidently, "so am I. Cause, I'm with you all the way: Start to finish."

They turn all the way to face each other. Max hugs him tightly. And, they just stand there: Hugging each other and teary eyed…before the smoggy sky of uncertainty.


	3. Episode 3: Inner Bitch

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 3:

On top of the Space Needle…

Max comes to…gazing out at the smog in the world. Everything else is whizzing blurs of darkness and neon lights in her cat like eyes. The city below sharply resembles sea waves.

Blinking a little, she comments, "looks like I'm not in Seattle anymore. Slight laugh. Wherever here is." Her silvery blue top is a little beat.

She suddenly hears footsteps. Gunshots pierce through the Space Needle's glass windows. But, Max is already tumble dodging on her side: Away from the incoming bullets bouncing off not so shiny metal. Stepping out from behind the windows is a shadowy figure with fairly long really dark curly brown hair.

And, as Max tumbles to her feet... She sees…Max. A perfect mirror with a pale gray open jacket and a jet black top on a dark blue motorcycle.

Before Max can pick up what the hell is going on… The mirror Max charges her motorcycle straight for her. She tumble side kicks off of its front wheel to kick at her. But, the mirror Max has the advantage of a few lightning seconds. The mirror Max just laughs, "you should've kept your head in the game…Maxie."

She flip jumps off the motorcycle…tackling Max down against the crumpling in metal. The motorcycle explodes into the side with a full tank of gas. And, the whole Space Needle starts going up in flames.

Max punches into her side. But, the mirror Max just punches her back harder at the same time. Max goes crashing into the back metal wall. But, not before kicking the mirror Max hard at the metallic floor.

Both are dented and crumpling down on impact. Max calls out, "how cliché is it for a genetic clone to be the bitch of the day?! Violent cough! Do you even have a name for yourself, or is this all just you not getting your little genetic test tube grown brain out of your Manticore branded ass?"

The mirror Max pulls herself out of the dented floor, and walks right up to her. She mutters back, "you still don't get it. Do you, Maxie? Pathetic."

The fire is closing in all around them in seconds.

In spite of all of the smoke… Max comments in a matter of fact way, "if you really are… Violent cough! …a Manticore bitch… You'd know you've just compromised your mission by crashing the place down on us. Violent cough!"

The mirror Max slightly sighs, "ok. If that's how it's going to be…" She presses a tiny barcode like button on the side, just as the fire is almost upon them. And…the entire scene changes out.

Seconds later…

Max finds herself standing in a very dark forest clearing. Something about it feels familiar. A red balloon with a silvery joystick tied on its end passes by a tree.

And now standing in front of Max is the mirror Max. Now both in army green uniforms. She implies sadistically, "...it's time for a little lesson."

Max pushes back, "ok. What the hell is with the games?!"

The mirror Max echoes, "you still don't get it. Do you, Maxie?"

Max rolls her eyes impatiently, "no. But, I process quickly. Try me."

The mirror Max figures, "we're soldiers. This is enemy territory."

Flashes of Zack cycle through Max's mind…on the train tracks like it was yesterday. Max rushes over, "Zack?! Zack, talk to me." In tears, Zack says, "what more can I…violent cough…say? You're the…violent cough…better soldier. Couldn't…violent cough…be more…proud."

Max slightly scoffs, "for a minute there…you sounded almost like Zack."

The mirror Max mutters harshly, "everything else is a lie. You really should know better. But, we'll try it your way."

The scene changes out again.

Max finds herself at a expo, down in Redding, California.

The San Andreas Fault was torn apart in late 2009.

Driven insane people in cars, too dehydrated to know right from wrong, were crashing into random objects left and right. Over time, the ground became weak. And, enough little earthquakes became big ones. Southern California was reduced to little reefs.

And, this was what was left to rebuild with: Broken down cities of red bricks and gray cement spread out like giant laid out dominoes, with dome like complexes out of loosely assembled apartment floors for houses.

Though, after the Pulse… Solar power and wind turbine towers were built back up in a matter of a hard several months. They tower over the city…peering out for the smoggy patches passing along the clear blue filled sky.

Blurs of light stand still…like time itself has broken down.

The Digital Arcade Expo's blocky blue memory cards styled sign very slowly spins in the breeze. But, cobwebs are the only signs of life thus far.

The craftily painted wooden gold mine that is propped up backdrops shines brightly over barrel like arcade booths.

They have pull out black rimmed white keyboards under the joysticks and buttons to have a player ID to log in with: Much like for MMOs. One is bannered "Attack of the Neon Waves" in neon jelly and blue: With "neon light" jellyfish up against mutated sharks and seaweed. A second is bannered "Slime Night" in slimy green: Where green slime blobs with lasers have broken out of a top secret lab and are attacking the city. And, a third is bannered "Fire-Cide" in flaming red: With a water elemental against fire elementals in the endangered forests of yesterday.

Puzzled, Max slightly scoffs, "what's the dealio?" She's looking around the place, "hello?! Any clones bent on murder in here?! Sigh. Still… Worth a…shot."

She stops before a backdrop: One craftily painted with Max about to fall to the floor…before a creepily calm scientist with medium brown hair and a gray mechanic like uniform. He's wearing a pair of neurotransmitter circuit wired VR goggles, with neon blue swirls over gold. He looks like he just placed another pair like it on Max. But, with the swirls seeming to spin very fast and yet very still.

The mirror Max stands there…right behind Max like she never left.

With much contempt, she says, "you should have known better than to leave yourself tactically exposed. You died here…five seconds ago."

A few seconds later…

Without even turning around, Max mutters lowly and coldly, "no. My dreams are always like this. This isn't real: It's all just a screwed up dream made worse by seizures or something! Then, you go back to your pathetic corner of my mind and stay there. And, I wake up as the bitch everyone "knows and loves"."

In memory flashes, from the early morning…

Max casually asks, "Logan?" Logan says, "yeah?"

They're both in his apartment…with Logan at his computer like he so often is. He wears a light blue long sleeved shirt.

Max comes out from behind one of the Chinese screens, holding a jet black motorcycle helmet up and giving him a sharp look.

Max comments, "yeah. Mind telling me how this helmet keeps finding its way on my Ninja? Or, is it one of these guy kink things I never really got?"

Knowing she's not going to let it drop, Logan adds, "slight nervous chuckle. Well, if it's out there… I never got it either."

Max comments, "and here I thought you were going through my things again." Logan faintly smiles, "ohh, no. You'd know if I was."

Delicate sounding, Max insists, "so… What?" She's holding the helmet with both arms…not sure what to do with it yet.

Logan considers, "think of it as a birthday present a bit early." A little nervously, Max realizes, "oh. That's today?"

Logan checks, "why? What's wrong with celebrating today?" Max remarks, "well… Not if it comes with metal bars and a pair of handcuffs."

Logan explains uneasily, "it's not. I…just worry about you."

Max lets the helmet drop. Making her way toward him, she seductively suggests, "oh, Loogie…"

Logan figures, "I'm serious. Everyone else with motorcycles has got helmets." With a hand suggestively running up his leg, Max comments, "and that's sweet…in a pathetic kind of way."

Logan tries to say, "and Eyes Only wasn't legally approved before."

Max pulls back…realizing he's not in the mood. But, Logan doesn't seem phased at all: Knowing her like he does.

She figures, "so, the big guys demoted you and put out a dress code? Sounds like it's cutting into my stilo." She turns around, pacing a little.

Logan goes back to his point, "that's not what I meant. Sigh. I was too careless once. And, I ended up in a wheelchair for a good long while. I…just don't want you to go through what I had to go through."

In a better mood, Max turns around to him, "thanks for the thought. Really. But…I've gotten this far without one. And, that's how it's going to stay."

Logan reasons, "okay. But…be careful out there."

Max nods, "I will." She changes the subject just as quickly, "so…about this celebration thing… How does it work?"

Logan slightly chuckles, "well, that's pretty much up to you." Max slightly smiles, "all right. Your uncle's cabin. Late. And, you don't get to bail on me."

Logan figures, "yeah. About that… It's Margo's now." Max shrugs, "so? I'll stake out the place and give you the all clear. No big dealio."

Logan points out, "pink window curtains, Max. Might cut into your stilo."

Completely unphased, Max figures, "we can work around it. You coming?"

Logan smiles back, "wouldn't miss it."

Max bends over, kissing him. Pretty soon, temptation turns into making out.

Then, realizing they still got to breathe… They pull away.

They both just faintly chuckle awkwardly for a bit.

Max excitedly smiles. But, she starts her way out: Professionally so, in direct contrast to her smile.

She waves to him, "see you there." Not doing a very good job at not sounding awkward, Logan adds, "yeah. See you there."

Not very long after, with Jam Pony…

Syl realizes, "really?"

Original Cindy figures, "hm hmm. The all-girl team, shugga. Looking to kick it and everything." They're sitting up in the rec area. Original Cindy is in a gray sweatshirt over dark blue. Syl wears what she usually wears.

Syl thinks outright, "wow. Sounds like I missed out on a lot. You're not hitting on me, are you?" Original Cindy just smiles assuringly, "oh, no. You'd know if Original Cindy was." A little uneasily, Syl adds, "thanks."

Original Cindy insists, "no big dealio. So…what? Your school never had any dances or nothing?"

She knows about Syl and Krit's real story through Max. But, out among most everybody else… They keep it to themselves.

More uneasy in another direction, Syl recalls, "not really. Just training this and training that. Felt a lot like military school, to be honest."

Original Cindy reflects, "Original Cindy can appreciate the power of a man or a woman in uniform. Sure can't imagine going in as one though."

In thankfulness, Syl implies, "trust me. It's better you can't."

Original Cindy solemnly nods, "I hear that."

Normal calls out, "hey! I don't pay you bums overtime to socialize on work hours. Bip bip bip!" He's standing front and center, motioning to his watch. All the bike messengers start getting back to work: Their attention slowly moving away from the TV.

Syl comes down to face Normal herself, "and what does that make me?"

Normal surmises, "just what I usually have to work with. Nothing personal, kid."

From high up, Original Cindy comments sarcastically, "well, listen to Mister Double Standards over here!"

Normal figures, "yeah. Well, the high horse looks good until it gets lost."

Original Cindy says confidently, "no, Normal. It's for real. I got connections. Aiight?"

Normal voices, "well, then I don't know nor care. You know where the door is. Don't forget to take your ungrateful smugness with you." Original Cindy comments, "neither do I." Syl almost can't resist laughing at that one.

Original Cindy adds, "looks like you're all good, Syl. Later." Syl slightly chuckles, "thanks. Later, Original Cindy."

She turns back to Normal, "high horse? Sounds kind of personal, if you ask me." A little more than a little embarrassed, Normal figures, "well, put enough bums together…and it's the only thing that gets them going."

He calls out, "also… Got twenty hot runs for Seaview Avenue and Fuhrman Avenue! Very delicate equipment. Anyone drops them, and it's coming right out of your paycheck! As in…no paycheck." Groans are heard from all over.

Twenty big packages are all gathered in a neat pile in the back: With small blocky memory card styled labels for Digital Arcade Expo stickered on.

Normal adds, "and, that's not double standards. We're not insured enough. And, we don't have enough lying around to cover it. Now, let's go. Bip bip!"

And, in just seconds…the pile is far from neat as bike messengers nervously scramble to get the packages out.

Syl plans out, "and I can be sure to get right on that. But…would you mind if I go with Sketchy?" Normal suspiciously asks, "ok. Why?"

Syl reasons quickly, "Sketchy is the most likely to drop a package?"

With a package in his hands, Sketchy turns to look at her, "what?"

Impressed sounding, Normal says, "done." Syl slightly smiles, "thanks."

She walks right up to Sketchy, in his red and white painting like sweatshirt.

Struggling to keep the package from falling, he insists, "ok. What's going…?!" Syl whispers hintingly, "us, if you don't argue."

Sketchy slyly smiles, "outstanding." And…the package starts to fall out of his hands as he says it. With her reflexes, Syl catches part of it upright.

She lowly says, "give me that! And, grab another box. Then we're good." Both nervous and not, Sketchy lets her have the package. He slightly nods, "got it." Syl smiles back, as he walks back over to grab one of the few packages left.

A hour and fifty minutes later… Along Seaview Avenue…

The busy cement cemented docks of Hiram M. Chittenden Locks are tagged with graffiti and plagued with trash. So many motorboats come in and out, that no one cares worth a shit for the place.

Up against a tree to the side are two unloaded mostly black bikes. And, in a unattended motorboat…are Syl and Sketchy: Topless and making out "very closely". Their pants and other clothes are up against some bluish chairs. And so is a silvery stopwatch, at eight minutes and counting.

Presently…

The mirror Max figures, "then why aren't you already up?"

Max slowly gets up from crouching. More puzzled than ever, Max realizes nervously, "damn. For a pathetic part of my mind…you can be right 100 percent."

The mirror Max suggests, "are your memories finally catching up to you?" Max sarcastically voices, "is that the sick feeling of residual gross man genes? Cause, I'm sure starting to feel some."

In memory flashes, from as far back as the mid afternoon…

The Digital Arcade Expo's blocky blue memory cards styled sign spins in the breeze. All the arcade booths and their circuitry are being assembled by technicians in gray mechanic like uniforms.

Max is walking in past the sign, wearing her Eyes Only International badge over her jet black catsuit. But, with a medium blond wig for good measure.

Some of the men wolf whistle at Max as she passes.

But, when she decks one of them… They back off and nervously get back to work. She mutters under her breath, "men."

She continues walking to a blue bricked security booth, under a jaggedly put together parking lot complex. Little cobwebs are in the unevenly made corners and cracks, hiding deeper under the foundation.

At the security booth, Max checks in, "so…who do I talk to about security detail for this big event of yours?"

She closes the little door to the security booth behind her. On the other side of the front window…is Sydney Bloom in a raggy dark gray T-shirt: With several security monitors stacked behind her and her computer briefcase in front of her.

Sydney just lightly says, "we already are talking about it."

A little amused, Max realizes, "okay. Thought you were more the secret spy computer type. But, I can get down with this."

With a slight chuckle, Sydney reasons, "well, I am the best spymaster I know." Max comments, "sure looks it. What about Eyes Only though?"

Sydney puts it out there, "actually… This is where it all started. Well, not in Redding. But, most everything Logan knows about computers has come from me. For that matter, most everything that runs America now…has come from me. I don't always like to think about it. But, it's helped us get back on our feet. And, it sure has helped us get this far if nothing else."

Max muses, "slight chuckle. So, Eyes Only had a guardian angel watching everyone's backs from start up. Who would have thunk?"

Sydney faintly chuckles, "something like that."

Presently…

The mirror Max urges, "all coming back to you now?"

Max reasons, "just about. But…it's really bent how long these seconds are dragging for. If you're right… Wouldn't I be dead by now?"

The mirror Max mutters temperamentally, "it's the sense blocker goggles! Never tested on bitches like us. A very slow, painful death. Parallel processing is just making it go even slower. All because you didn't listen!" She looks about ready to punch somebody. Anybody.

Max reasons, "well, if that's how this bitch is working…maybe I can jumpstart it. Bring myself back. That sounds like what either of us would do. Don't it?" The mirror Max comments, "maybe."

In memory flashes…

The Digital Arcade Expo is lit with wire hanging headlights in the night: Stretching through the mainland of California and the Willamette Valley of Oregon. Sector Police and the common people have come from across the whole west coast to see and play arcade games. A lot of the people have black or white robes, in honor of their respective churches. The expo is both a valiant effort to find some common ground, and to showcase what the computers of America can achieve for a new wave of independent media and technology companies.

Max's mission here is fairly simple: Check all weapons and bombs at the door, and be on hand to deal with any deadly situation that may arise. Sydney is on hand as backup in both instances.

But…it was all about to get real complicated real fast.

A creepily calm scientist with medium brown hair and a pair of neon blue swirled gold neurotransmitter circuit wired goggles had snuck in as early as mid afternoon: Disguised as a arcade technician.

And, with some spare parts of his own… He left one of the arcade booths reconfigured to extend out up to three neurotransmitter circuit wired VR goggles to anyone who enters.

His name is Matt Donin. In the days before the Pulse…he was rejected from contributing his neurotransmitter circuit wired goggles to a video game company on moral grounds. Now, he's resurfaced to try again: Whatever it takes.

It happens to be a rather young father, his daughter, and his son who enters.

Seconds later… They all sit there motionless, with the goggles on. All five senses are neurally blocked in a instant to the point of reducing them to vegetables: For the moment. But, it's long enough for Matt to make his official appearance.

Panic is already hitting the streets. But, the Sector Police stand their ground and rally everyone in groups for protection. And, that calms some nerves down.

Matt demands, "I know Eyes Only is sponsoring. And, I don't want any unnecessary trouble. So, this is how it's gonna be: Give me all the technology and finances I need to have my own company in one hour. And, I'll let them all go."

Max remarks, "you know…your kind of practice is crap for business. How about this?" She flip kick jumps right at him very quickly. All the while, she's going on, "you release them, and I consider…?"

Matt surprisingly reactively blocks her with his arms up, sending her back against the pavement.

She tumbles back to her feet. Only, a little bruised. Max remarks, "damn! Can't I not get my ass kicked three times in a row?!"

Matt shrugs, "not my problem."

Max figures, "of course it isn't. Neurotransmitters in boy toy goggles? Slight chuckle. You're not even trying to hide that you're a whack."

Matt faintly smiles at her, "very astute, Miss Max. I got my prototype. Gives me enhanced senses. I'm afraid your security chief wasn't as astute."

Max gets up. She mutters threateningly, "what did you do to her?" Matt answers her, "she's just unconscious: For now. But, no one has to die tonight."

Thinking on her feet, Max says, "you're right about that. If it's Eyes Only you want to get attention from for your little pet project… You don't need to bring others into it." Matt figures, "keep talking."

The Sector Police are coming back very shortly: Back with their guns ready.

Max proposes, "let's just say I'm a very valuable agent. Release them…and I'll be your hostage. They'll be sure to give a listen."

Matt figures, "that's all I'm really after. But, no sudden moves." He goes over to the arcade booth with the motionless people to get the goggles a little loose: Buying himself time to get away before they slide off and smash on the floor.

Max comments annoyedly, "yeah. It'd be a real bitch: We'd be here all night." Matt concludes, "fair enough."

Max is about to fall to the floor…before Matt in his arcade technician disguise. He places a second pair of neurotransmitter circuit wired VR goggles on Max: With the swirls spinning very fast.

Matt makes a run for it…carrying a motionless Max over his shoulder.

The Sector Police almost get a chance. But, the smashing of the goggles from within the arcade booth ends up setting off their aim. The three motionless people start coming to…very much confused and nauseated by the whole thing.

One of them mutters, "of all the… Damnit! Get me the chief." A second one says nervously, "yes, sir." She passes by a third officer…who has just found Sydney's knocked out body in the parking lot complex on ground level.

Presently…

Getting up again… Max impatiently insists, "so…what am I missing here?"

The mirror Max mutters, "we're stranded in your mind with no mission. No enemies. You threw away your freedom, just for the enemy!"

Max talks back to her, "what the hell are you talking about?! I took down Manticore, the Red Series, Synthedyne… Basically fighting the power in Seattle and then some."

The mirror Max recalls, "and you used to know that everyone else is the enemy." Max mutters, "shut up."

The mirror Max pushes, "you threw away your chance to kill Lydecker when you had him, just for more than enough reconnaissance. You let Manticore kill Brin and Zack, because you're just too damn compassionate for your enemy!"

Flashes of Tinga, Ben, Brin, and Zack dying again and again cycle through Max's mind like a mental hurricane. On the brink of tears, Max shouts, "shut up!"

She impulsively punches the mirror Max down. The mirror Max tumbles back to her feet, getting back up. She slightly smirks eerily, "you want to take me on? Go ahead! You're already so far up your ass, that it's pathetic!"

The wooden backdrops give way to a cave: The very same cave Zack and Max retreated into when they tried to remember the others in Zack's care in time to warn them about Manticore.

Max tackle charges the mirror Max against the cave wall. She head butts Max, dazing her long enough to spin hurl her through the wall. Out in the dark forest clearing beyond, Max is coughing violently: Very dizzy and coughing dark red liquid on the ground. She tumbles back uneasily to her feet, just as the mirror Max almost punches her out.

Crouching to the side, Max suddenly realizes, "wait. Violent cough! I see through…your bent little game." The mirror Max taunts, "is that right?"

Max figures it out, "you're not just a pathetic part of me: You're my inner bitch. The bitch inside my head that howls at the full moon. The bitch that gets bent on hurting anyone in her way…which is this time me."

Her wound vanishes, like it was never there. Though, she's still very dizzy.

In mixed feelings, the mirror Max slightly sighs, "except that makes all the difference, Maxie. I wanted to let you down easy, because this mission has given me the tactical advantage to get us back to what we were meant to be: A soldier." She's standing there, looking ready to finish it.

Getting up, Max highlights coldly, "that's where you're wrong: I am the better soldier. Just not the one you have in mind."

The mirror Max figures in cold anger, "sure doesn't look like you are. Good night, little Maxie." She punches at her.

Max figures, "think again." She catches the mirror Max's arm in mid-dodge spin, and breaks it in half under her shoulder. The mirror Max winces in pain, as she clutches her arm.

Max sharply points out, "if I didn't have "so much" compassion…you'd be dead. I'm not going to kill you. Because, then I'd be killing myself."

Glaringly, the mirror Max mutters, "you already are."

Max scoffs, "yeah. Keep telling yourself that. And, while you're getting all pissed off in circles…this bitch is going back to the world." She walks away…leaving the mirror Max behind in a fading away dreamscape of the mind.

Presently, in the real world…

Max comes to: With the goggles still on, and the swirling grinding to a halt.

She gradually takes them off…taking in her surroundings.

She finds herself lying on the gray back seat of a mostly red still car: With Matt at the wheel, and a open gray cellular phone between the front seats.

Some cement made train tracks are not far off…in a wide field of grass. A few Californian dome like complexes aren't far off either.

Not making any sudden moves…Max checks if he's noticed yet. He doesn't.

She snaps the goggles in half, letting the micro-circuits dangle.

Very much shocked, Matt turns around, "what the…?!"

Max slightly smirks, "yeah. I get that reaction a lot. I'd run like hell, while you can still walk." While she's been talking…she managed to hotwire the goggles back on themselves and snap the wires.

She lets the sparks fly, lighting the dashboard aflame.

Matt grabs his cellular phone and starts running for it.

Max tosses the goggles into the dashboard, making a bigger fire. She tumble jumps backwards, smashing through a side window and grabbing the wig in mid-tumble. The fire burns straight through the dashboard and into the engine.

The car explodes…knocking out Matt off his feet from the impact alone.

On the next day, on a cloudy afternoon…

Past the train tracks of Seattle… Up on a familiar looking hill… There be Zack's tombstone.

And, the empty DNA vial he took from the DNA lab. Max has just laid it down before the tombstone…as the closest thing to flowers for a solider like him.

With his arms around her, Logan reflects, "you really miss him."

Holding back a lot of tears, Max sniffles, "he's my brother. He deserved more. Hell…we all did."

Logan points out, "no. It's more than that."

Max comments, "it's that obvious, huh?"

Logan figures, "for someone who knows you as well as I do? Maybe it is. It's survivor's guilt, Max. And, it doesn't get any easier to live with."

With a hint of amusement, Max wonders, "not even for someone who's seeing the great and powerful Eyes Only?"

Logan concludes, "afraid not. I wish I could help make it easier. But, I can't." Max figures assuringly, "more than you think. Just don't be so down on yourself for me. That'd be just whack."

Logan suggests, "you want to stay up here for a bit?"

Max faintly smiles, "why not? The world will still be around when we go back." She starts crouch sitting down in front of the tombstone. Logan faintly smiles back, "sounds good."

They both just sit there together: Gazing out past the clouds over the world.


	4. Episode 4: Ravage

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 4:

Over the ash covered distant land of distant happiness…

The ashes of the dead are plentiful: Too plentiful.

The grass has wilted to black. The burning crucifixes of studded wood give off black fumes in the faintly blackened sky.

The warmish breeze merely waves the flames: They don't just go out.

Some iron enforced bolted together buckets of red tinted sea water are carried by a guy in a red vampire like black and red cape: With a ghostly sheet over him, with creepily painted fangs in dried dark red liquid and no mouth. His sleeves have rifles tucked under them, with trigger wires to have them fire and cable tightly around the pain throbbing arms.

The twenty one members in his group are all wearing the same thing: Except their leader has a bigger cape and bigger fangs. With his arms wide, he calls forth, "praise be to the God and Father of our Klansman Jesus Christ. May this sacrifice of the flesh make certain they come to see true Christianity. Amen."

They are the Iron Knights Klan: The KKK movement that came to this country to spread their Protestant Christian values by any means necessary. The Pulse merely helped speed up their plans.

Echoes of Amen ring creepily among them…and thousands of dragged along longish black and light brown haired fume covered slaves in chains: Heavily abused and heavily breathing children and teens in sickeningly ragged clothes.

Wolves and bears are either dying or desperate for the meat of the bodies of the fallen. A few even walk among the Iron Knights Klan: With some lingering reluctance, after years of being fed well enough to be their animal companions.

The ravens remain untouched by the war that has plagued the wild to endangerment. But…millions of lives have suffered from the flames of hate.

Millions of others have fled or continue to fight: Some in the mystical caves of the Carpathian mountains. Some on the ash covered plains of hard earned labor.

The fume radiated soldiers at the heart of the ashes patrol the scattered factories of all but forgotten times. They mostly carry mostly dark blue silver heavy duty RPK-74M rifles and wear torn and worn mostly pale desert gray uniforms. Some are corporate security officers that had no real choice anymore but to stand with them. The name Observo is across most of their dark brown uniforms: In dark red and shrouded by two white angels, with the arching over subtitle saying "we're watching".

Beyond the factories… Over the Ceahlău National Park, with its hiking trails lined with sheepskin tents and little lead made forts… There is a little lead reinforced tent. It stands on one of the limestone peaks up on the Ceahlău Massif. Most of the flowers and trees have wilted away: Save for a small garden out back.

And within this very same tent… There is a silvery satellite dish, a dusty dark gray TV set, a metal rimmed keyboard with exposed circuits, and a cheap headset with a microphone cobbled together with odds and ends.

A fairly young woman with a full head of long slightly curly white hair and a very dark blue but worn and torn cape like dress is behind the monitor: Putting together the final odds and ends. Her name is Dawn Saril.

Her DVDs from as far back as 2009 of Bathory and The Outsider are on a wooden sideboard to the side, along with a salvaged security camera.

A fairly young medium dark brown haired man in a dark green shirt and a very dark blue worn out jacket is standing near. His name is Crystek Tiralli. He comments, "as much as I hate to összezavar vmit…we don't have a lot of time."

In Hungarian, Dawn sarcastically asks, "well, do you want it done fast or good? I only got 18 hours in the nappal."

In English, Crystek figures, "ok, ok! You're brilliant. I'll go keep watch."

In a know-it-all kind of way, Dawn slightly smiles back, "good man." She sits at the computer: Bringing up a network connection the instant it comes on.

The screen reads like a checkout counter readout, with a scrollable desktop and a dark red number pad. But, with a few numbers punched in by keyboard…the screen starts showing a yellow bar across it.

With a automated German voice, it says, "call for order number 1-202-456-1414. Thank you for shopping at Plus." Dawn impatiently rolls her eyes.

Footsteps come from outside. Some members of the Klan are touching down on archangel styled hang gliders: As cut out dark green wings. One of them points towards Crystek, "there!" A second Klan member nods. He calls forth, "in the name of the Klansman Jesus Christ…identify yourself!"

The automated voice says, "number out of or…der…" The screen suddenly changes to a video bulletin of Eyes Only. Dawn lowly exclaims, "what the…?!"

A automated message in English responds, "do not attempt to adjust your call. This is a automatic Freedom Streaming Video Bulletin. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. Please leave your message at the tone, and I will get back to you." Dawn wastes no time sending a pre-recorded message from the apparently wired in security camera.

Crystek mutters out, "letorve lenni valamiert!"

The first Klan member glares, "what did you say?"

Crystek asks back, "you hard of hearing? I said piss off!"

He shields himself with the lead reinforced tent flap…as a round of bullets bounces off. The impact knocks him over. The Iron Knights Klan is reloading their rifles, while Crystek has just enough time to get back up.

Over the bullets, Dawn calls out, "now?!" Crystek remarks, "now would be plenty good!"

They run out through the back flaps. The Klan is charging in, rifles ready.

Without hesitance, the first Klan member calls out, "fire!" They fire everything. The TV set explodes in flames, setting the rest of the tent aflame.

Dawn and Crystek keep running. The boulder like rocks give them enough cover to get away. But, the second Klan member manages to shoot Crystek.

He clutches his wounded shoulder, trying hard to not think about the pain.

Dawn pauses, "you ok?"

Crystek insists, "it's minor. But, those terrorists sure as fene aren't!" Dawn faintly nods, "right."

They keep running: Leaving the Iron Knights Klan in the dust just as they come around the rocks.

The first Klan member realizes, "they can't have gone far. Find them."

The second Klan member figures, "what about the computer?" The first Klan member turns coldly to him, "there's no way. Find them…before they try again." The second Klan member adds firmly, "yes, sir." They start spreading out.

Not very long after, in the specially marked Eyes Only Rec room…

A little uneasily, Original Cindy figures, "hm hmm. So what did you do?"

She and Max are sitting in the ring of couches, opposite each other. Original Cindy is in her jet black vest and a dark blue T-shirt. Max is in her dark blue collared light blue T-shirt.

Laying back all annoyed sounding, Max recaps, "popped open a bottle and let this bitch wash over me like water. All night."

Original Cindy says, "damn. Didn't think you could be in heat that soon."

Max quickly explains, "oh, god no. But, they were: All night. Completely spaced in their own place."

Original Cindy realizes, "ohh. So, they didn't…?"

Max reasons, "no. I'd kill Walter first. Kendra would get all in my face about it. And next thing I know, I'd be in lock up again."

Original Cindy figures, "right. So, how you holding up?"

Max comments, "well, I haven't killed him yet."

Original Cindy gives her a look.

Max mostly assures her, "I'm kidding. God!" Original Cindy slightly chuckles, "least Original Cindy hears some good in that. But, yeah: He still is a hormone tripping two sided dollar fool."

Max comments, "what else is new?"

Meanwhile, in a reporter's office of KPJK…

Herbal is in a dark blue long sleeved shirt, looking a bit nervous. He's sitting in a metal chair before the Editor-in-Chief Rick Delmos.

He's got greased black hair and a mostly red T-shirt with a mostly jet black McDonalds sign that says "Bite Me: I'm Loving Our American Sectors".

He also has got a jet black flatscreen computer: The only one that's been around in the studio for years. On the computer is a news story by Herbal, with this headline: Wicked Sector Cop Cops Out Of Duty. It goes on to talk about things such as "flees his own Sector for a mansion up in Canada" and "murder of a Beyonce cosplayer from four stories up high".

Rick utters, "are you just asking to get arrested, man? Is that what this is about?! Cause you are this close to being fired on your ass."

Herbal remarks firmly, "no: Just have a problem with wicked things."

Rick faintly chuckles, "you know, I'm beginning to like you. But, if you're going to keep working here…there's something you should understand." With his hands contemplatively across his chest, Herbal says, "all right. Help I with understanding you here."

Rick condescendingly says, "sure. Some of us in the government have sensitive hearing. They help keep the sectors safe. But, lowlife and crapheads keep making things tough on them: Just like on their families and their kids and their friends's kids. So, before you hand me a story with crap about our most respected officers…share your concerns."

Herbal comments, "yes. You can be sure of that now."

Lying back comfortably in his black and white cushioned chair on wheels, Rick figures, "good. I'll arrange a meeting this afternoon so we can get this behind us as soon as possible. That sounds reasonable. No?"

Hurriedly, Herbal slightly nods, "yes. Reasonable. Thanks." Like he could care less, Rick adds, "see you then." Herbal courteously says, "see yah then."

As he steps out of the light blue door, Herbal breathes a sigh of relief: With a copy of the story on CD for Eyes Only intelligence in his front pockets. He's thinking constantly to himself, "all good, all the time. All good, all the time."

Around this time, in a top secret location…

The light blue striped and gold handrail lined movie theater styled hallway is covered with hanging photographs of junk covered beaches and docks.

Down the hall are a few guys in light blue plumber like uniforms, carrying in a battered and torn yellow decades old couch through a wooden pinkish purple door. With tied back braided hair, Sydney gestures, "yeah. Right over there." She wears a somewhat sweaty white sleeveless top. They set the couch down on the wood floor, right before the White House seal in the center of the room: Pre-Pulse.

Coming around the corner is Sketchy: In his light yellow shirt with the griffon on it. He checks a little nervously, "hello. Is this a bad time?" Sydney faintly chuckles, "no. Not at all. Come on in."

Sketchy steps in the room, "doesn't look very comfortable." The couch and a wooden desk are the only things so far in it. That, and a open door to a garage.

Sydney reasons, "oh, it will. Just has a ways to go before that happens."

Sketchy slightly nods, "sure. Moving to a new place. I get it."

Sydney faintly sighs, "yeah. Something like that."

Sketchy asks, "you okay?" Sydney faintly smiles back, "I should hope so. I wouldn't be around if I wasn't. So…you're here for the accounting position?"

Sketchy confirms her conclusion, "that's what I'm here for."

Sydney thinks out loud, "hmm. You see all those boxes in the back room?"

Sketchy answers, "yeah." Sydney explains, "they're all new computers. We're expecting more to come from the factories five days a week."

Sketchy figures, "no way. How do you fit them all?" A little amused, Sydney slightly chuckles, "they don't all stay in one place, Sketchy." Sketchy realizes, "ohh. Okay. That sounds a lot more durable."

Sydney reasons, "I should hope so. You think you can handle cataloguing that many?" Sketchy figures confidently, "say no more. I can take it from here."

He's already on his way over to the office next door. Sydney figures, "sounds good. I'll be around: In case you need any help with the main computer."

Sketchy turns back to face her, "why? What's wrong with it?" Sydney recommends, "not much: Just a bad connection at times. I suggest saving often."

Sketchy reasons, "will do. Thanks." Sydney adds, "you're welcome."

Then, Sketchy heads over to the other office. Sydney faintly chuckles to herself again, before lying on the couch to relax a little.

Back with Max and Original Cindy…

Original Cindy considers, "well, boo…check out the dealio on the screen. Could see something you like." Max faintly smiles back, "okay."

With her cat like eyes, she easily spots which screen she's talking about. She sits down in front of it to get a closer look…finding it to be the prerecorded message from earlier under the Eyes Only database.

Half of it didn't get through before Dawn's computer was shot out. And, the footage is a little fuzzy. But, this is what it says:

Hello, mister President. Or, whoever can hear me. Sigh. We don't know much of what happened. The PRM and the KKK brought fene to Romania. Until the KKK killed them too. We…

Then…nothing but static.

Max sarcastically says, "a mission for me? Oh, you shouldn't have."

Original Cindy highlights, "well, the dealio is that I've just got out of training. And, we're both on for a mission. Nothing like a ass kicking where it's well deserved to feel right with the world: Even with C.R.E.A.M. kicking it back."

Max adds, "I hear that. When do we leave?"

With a slight smile, Original Cindy answers, "in a few minutes."

Max adds, "I'll bring the pitcher of beer." Original Cindy slightly chuckles at that as they start walking over to the floor tiled lift.

A few hours after…

The Eyes Only private plane is circling over the Ceahlău Massif. From the opened back of the plane, Max stands there in her jet black catsuit: Shielding her eyes from the glimmers of sunlight coming up. She's looking down, thinking about how much of a war scorched land Romania has become:

Eleven years ago…there was the PRM. A whole club of guys obsessing over their main ethnicity like it's so much bigger and crap. Most everyone else was just trying to get by. Yet, they had thousands of followers. How sick is that?

I brought some old satellite feed along so I could get up to speed. Faint chuckle. Thank you, Logan. Everything about it is already lining up...that it's real pathetic and humiliating when I really think on it.

The Iron Knights Klan were all too willing to do the PRM's dirty work. And the Pulse made it all too easy to start up a war.

The PRM may have been bastards with a bastardly preacher cause. But, they were Orthodox bastards. And, the Iron Knights Klan likely killed them just for praying differently than them. Cause I sure don't see any sign of their asses.

Nervous sigh. The country has been ravaged, torn, and violated in every bent way conceivable. But…if Logan has taught me anything… It's that the world deserves to be less broken. As much as it can be, anyway. I'm not as "high-minded" as he likes to sometimes think. But, he can be so sweet when he does.

Over comlink, Original Cindy points out, "okay. We've been at this for a whole hour, and still no sign of any girl in all white in trouble."

Max realizes, "wait. I see her." She can faintly see through her cat like eyes a familiar face, along with a second: Both exhausted and stopping to take a breath.

From the co-pilot's seat, Original Cindy checks, "so, you think we should touch down and land?" Max reasons, "not yet. Tell the pilot to hold this position. I'm going down to give the triple K something to be damned about for real."

Original Cindy argues, "Max: It's ten thousand feet over!"

Max insists determinedly, "I can make it as planned. Just need to time this shot right, and I'm good."

Original Cindy remarks, "you may not be all human. But, you're sure not all invincible neither. Now, you sure 'bout this? Cause Original Cindy is down with ass kicking those SOBs. But, Original Cindy also don't wanna be attending your funeral for a damn straight many years." Max faintly smiles, "well, I'm sure as hell not leaving my ass out to die on you like that. Trust me: I know what I'm doing."

Mostly assured, Original Cindy adds, "aiight. Original Cindy just worries about her homegirl." Max faintly chuckles, "I feel you. I won't be long."

She grabs a emergency parachute: Swiftly tying one half of a cable line to the parachute inside and closing it back up. At the same time, she run jumps off the plane: With her crossbow loaded with the cable in one arm, and her other hand on the jet black parachute's release lever.

Blurs of faintly blackened sky and faint sunlight whiz by, through Max's cat like eyes. She free falls for twelve seconds. Then, Max releases the parachute: Twisting her arm quick enough to draw out the crossbow without dropping it. With a side of mountain coming up fast, she shoots the cable from her crossbow: Metal hook and all. It pierces the nearest dead tree wood.

Max swings around the tree wood to tumble overhead…and spin kick tumble down into two Klan members to cushion her fall and stun them off their asses while landing on her feet. Their bones break all over.

Another blur goes by of the other Klan members falling back: Scared shitless like it was all a warning sign from God.

Seconds after…

With a bunch of dark red liquid soaked tissues taped over his shoulder, Crystek comments, "that was quite some timing."

Max commentatively adds, "you're welcome."

A few hours after, after touching down in Transylvania…

A blackish night is out over the land. The stars are very faint.

The red roofed medieval fortresses and fortified towers are all that have withstood the attacks of the Iron Knights Klan: Albeit crumpled in many areas. The Eyes Only plane is parked behind such a fortress.

No Romanian military has made it out here. And, not a lot of them would even if they could. There's been countless skirmishes and thinning of rations over a good several years, just to tend to the wounded and recover as a united people.

And inside…it's not all that far off.

In Hungarian, a medium brownish black haired Hungarian man concludes, "we're impressed you got anywhere at all. But, I'm afraid this isn't going to cut it."

Many medieval styled wooden tables are full of Hungarians, Romanians, and every other European minority imaginable: Most of them with sheepskin beds for tens of thousands of the wounded and the painfully amputated. Things have gotten so bad that they've recently decided to combine forces to end the war: Romanian and Hungarian across the entire nation. Without military support.

Max and Dawn though are in the center of the hall…and of the attention.

Dawn comments, "why the fene not?! You said it yourself, Kelemen: Anything is better than having to kill our own children."

Mumbles of agreement and discontent echo in the hall.

In German, a long sharply dark brown haired Romanian speaks up, "good god! None of us wants it to be! But, we're down to our last month of rations. So is everyone else! What else can we do to have a future again? Let one woman go in and get herself killed for our country for nothing?"

A second Romanian adds, "All we can hope for now is to hope God forgives us for our sins." Romanian and Hungarian voices echo, "here, here!"

Max explains openly, "except I'm not your typical human female: I'm a revved up girl. And, this…was without breaking a sweat."

Crystek drags in the broken and bruised bodies of the two Klan members from earlier for all to see. He faintly laughs, "okay. Everyone satisfied now?"

The hall goes silent.

With some lingering reluctance, Kellemen decides, "all right. We'll try it your way: For our children." Mumbles of mostly hesitant agreement echo about.

Kellemen makes sure to add, "But, if you can't end the war…you can be sure that we will: In blood, if necessary."

Solemnly, Max faintly nods, "I know. You'll see your children come home. That's a promise."

Come sunrise, approximately 904 miles out…

The sun is rising, in a blend of blackish sky and reddish sun light.

The concrete docks of Dobrogea look abandoned. So do the fancy cinder block structured houses and apartments. But, piles of trash, little crude gardens out of flower garden boxes, and crates of imported food tell otherwise.

Max is coming down on a archangel styled hang glider: Taken from one of the Klan members. As she comes over a prison yard styled gathering of warehouses though…the two other Klan members with archangel styled hang gliders come over from overhead. Max turns hard right, as the round of bullets batter down on the backmost concrete roof.

She calls out tauntingly, "gunning down a female in this part of town? Under all those sheets, you must be desperate."

Max glide dives for the roof: Pull bending the wings in for a sudden burst of speed. The hang glider's center wooden pole looks like it's about to snap.

The Klan keeps firing, destroying Max's hang glider.

Max easily swings off, tumbling to her feet on the concrete roof. She gets up with only a slight groan. But…some more Klan members come out to the roof.

Max run charges for the stairs, trying to outrun the bullets all the while. She punches out a third Klan member off the roof to her death. And, she spin kicks a fourth and a fifth into each other in throbbing pain. But then Max sharply realizes something: One of the Klan members on their hang gliders managed to shoot her.

Dark red liquid is dripping from her side…making her hunch over and violently cough some. Max looks up to see the first two Klan members touch down on the roof, laughing with bemusement.

The first Klan member disturbingly says, "that's where you're wrong, girlie: We're not desperate. Our disciples are just "very easy to please"."

Max mutters angrily, "you pervo bastards!" She leap tackles punches down a Klan member before they can shoot fast enough.

He goes straight through the roof: Brief flashes of dark red liquid flying from under his dark red stained ghostly sheet. Max flip kicks off of his violently shaken body, as he collides with the harsh cold metal floor.

She managed to violently kick a piece of debris into the first Klan member in midair: Sending him against a opened stack of splintering imported food crates.

Max lands on her feet. She's a little short on breath. But, she keeps running.

She shouts out, "this is what the real Apocalypse feels like on your ass!" Max grabs a Klan member by the arm and throws him in the line of incoming bullets. He instantly falls over dead.

Max suddenly hears footsteps from downstairs…and a thousand rifles getting loaded. A grim expression of realization comes over her. But, she tries to ignore it in the here and now.

Max shouts out, "and this is for all those guys back in Manticore coming to bite me in the ass!" She jump mid-air split kicks two Klan members in the head, with trails of dark red liquid flying from over their dead cold faces.

Then…she gets a idea. Max high jumps for a window, and swings off of its ledge as a round of bullets goes off. Some of them pierce through the top of a pile of food crates, letting them topple. She kicks a second pile over in midair, and crash tumbles under another. And before they knew it…the whole Klan are toppled over by their own crates.

Most all of them are knocked out. And the few that weren't are easily kicked down the stairs by Max…and consequently knocked out and bruised.

The thousand armed children and teens come cautiously up the stairs: Chains around their ankles. Thousands of others are mostly just waking up in the crowded rows of brown stained bedsheets below. But, not armed either.

A armed young girl with long curly unkempt jet black hair asks shakily, "who are you?" She has a rifle aimed right at Max, along with ten other very young boys and girls and teens.

Max fights the overwhelming urge to cry: For more than a single reason.

She tries to calmly say, "I know you're all scared. But… I'm a girl like you: For real. No real parents that I can remember. Childhood taken away by men with big rifles. Not much of any one but my brothers and sisters in Manticore to kick it with back in the day. Faint chuckle. Before I found out there was more to the world that was worth fighting for."

A stunned silence fills the place…as most of all of them lower their rifles.

One of them asks, "are they…?"

Max figures, "not all of them. But…none of you are my enemy. If you want freedom, it's out there: Waiting for you. No more war." All of them put down their rifles. And, those that don't at first end up standing down before their closest friends before them…before breaking into tears.

A teenage boy with messy medium faint blond hair sniffles. After a bit…he asks, "are they still out there? Our parents?"

Teary eyed herself, Max faintly assures them, "I'm sure some are. But…I don't know how many. Sniffle. I wish I did."

The same teenage boy hesitantly voices, "would they even take us back: After what we've done to them?" Max reasons, "don't overthink it. All of you have got a second chance at life. That's all that matters now."

The eleven girls and boys gather around Max in a group hug. She hugs them back…knowing the worst is over.

Coming home will be far from easy. But, whatever happens…they got each others's backs to see it through. And, that's all that matters.

That night, under the Carpathian mountains…

The Romanian people were prepared for a EMP. And, that preparedness plan involved massive relocation to the caves. They were many special things that they took with them. Anything that could be taken was: Even if it was just to disassemble electrical things for their metal parts. Though, they had no idea the war with the Iron Knight Klan would last seven years: Let alone ten.

For millions to survive…just about every cave became a museum. All the most culturally important and beautiful sights have been given wooden fences. The passages in between have become eating areas doubling as sheepskin beds. But, most all food and water and cattle have come from the farms out in the outskirts of Romania: Both new and old. Remarkably untouched by the Iron Knights Klan.

Yet, younger Romanian generations wanted to stay closer to the cities. And so, they turned to life in the caves.

In turn, they turned to sculpting and painting to pass the time. Sometimes, even iconography: Which was ironically welcomed by the elder Romanians. Because, iconography on stone tablets was the only way they could chronicle historical records without electricity or desecration of their most sacred places.

Across several stone tablets of the official record keepers's tablets… There's a delicately painted icon of Max with archangel wings set to dry: Gliding for the warehouse while two vampiric ghost white demons fly charge for her. And a second delicately painted icon has Max being blessed by little angel children with faintly appearing halos over their heads.

On the plane ride back with Original Cindy, Max thinks to herself:

So now I'm a religious symbol. Faint chuckle. Still not completely sure whether I should be impressed or just not give a damn. Still…I heard somewhere that imitation can be the most awesome form of flattery. Either way…it's a awesome picture of me.

And, I hope they find their way through this bitch. Actually…I know they will. But, it's good to hope anyway: For the kids of the future.


	5. Episode 5: Betrayal at House on the Hill

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 5:

Up in Logan's apartment…

Logan points out, "you know, when you offered to help…I wasn't expecting you to dust the floor too."

Max is sitting in the middle of the wooden floor, with open manila files full of classified papers and clipped on photos: All out in a three ringed circle. She wears a bright gold open army jacket over black. Logan is standing there next to the couch in a gray long sleeved shirt: His back to the smoggy sky.

Slightly amused, Max adds, "I'm not: Unless you're paying. This is reconnaissance." Logan figures, "I should've known."

Max reasons out loud, "you would think so. Slight chuckle. A girl can never have too much money in this world." Logan goes, "uh-huh. So you're just going to knock on all of their doors and say trick or treat?"

Max rolls her eyes innocently like. She comments, "not what I meant. Do people still celebrate Halloween? With all the ghosts and lightning and fencing?"

Logan deduces, "everyone that celebrated before and then some." With a faint smile, Max figures, "fair enough."

More business like, Logan urges, "all right. What candidates have you got?"

Max jumps up, flip kicking off the floor and swinging off the ceiling to avoid getting the papers any less dirty. After landing on her feet, she takes out some candidate files from under her jacket. Max smirks, "ka-boom."

Tempted to say more, Logan awkwardly chuckles, "you could've just cleaned up." Max smiles playfully, "what would be the fun in that?"

Logan starts going through the files. And, a tense nervousness starts to show.

Even as she pulls him in close… Max quickly picks up on it, "what?"

Logan nudges her arms off, much to her surprise. He turns to her, "what's wrong? Let me break it down for you, and you just might get the picture."

Looking fairly shaken, Max adds, "well, don't let me stop you."

Logan deeply sighs. He holds up a file of a former military officer with silver streaked messy medium blond hair, and a file of a guy with black medium hair and a light blue swordfish tattoo on the arm. Logan says, "Shelly Guvorn. Charged with several accounts of anger issues with authority. Dishonorably charged from service for killing her own commander. Given parole in recent months…after two years of rioting and attempted assaults in prison. Luke Grandon. Together on the outside. But, with a serious case of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder since 2009. Still needs to see a counselor five days a week."

Max glares, "and now you're saying I need to? That's just bent!"

She starts to storm out.

Very shaken, Logan voices, "I'm sorry. That's… That's not what I meant." More sad than angry now, Max calls back, "then don't make me guess: Tell me!"

Logan spells it out, "deep sigh. All the candidates you picked are like the old you, Max. In one way or another…they all are. And they wouldn't be ready."

Teary eyed, Max mutters harshly, "and that's supposed to make it sound better than locking me up in a mental place?" Trying to break it down calmly, Logan reasons, "it's not supposed to sound that way at all. They all have potential to be better. And maybe someday they will be. Point taken. But, they're not all ready to be agents: Especially if they're not ready to play well with others. You sure weren't when I first tried to reach out to you. And look what happened. What makes you think that people like Shelly or Luke are going to be much different?"

Looking stunned and embarrassed, Max voices, "wow. Coming from you…it sounds like whack for everyone else's asses. Thanks."

Logan says, "don't mention it."

Max wipes a few tears away. She says, "except I should. Sorry for getting all bent at you like that." Logan faintly smiles, "thanks. See you later?"

Max adds, "yeah. Later: At a better time." Logan reasons, "fair…enough."

Max pauses, "what is it?" She sees him perfectly from across the room. But, she walks over anyway to take a look.

Logan looks puzzled, "just got a call to Eyes Only from Huntington, Utah. Except it isn't a call: It's email." A email is indeed up on his computer screen. And, it sure doesn't look like it's from a government agency.

She realizes, "I better go check it out."

Logan figures, "right. I gotta get to work soon myself."

Max says, "later." Logan adds, "later."

She heads out the door…leaving Logan with a lot of files, a lot of thoughts, and a very interesting message up on the screen.

Around this time, down the graffiti filled streets of Seattle…

Out on a street corner… There be a guy with a brown robe and long black uncut dreadlocks, smoking marijuana. He's got a rack on wheels, with a cardboard sign in dark blue lined green graffiti saying "All Truth, All In Spite of Evil".

Hanging from it are thin rolled up papers, with a news story printed on each.

The headline reads: L.A. Tremors Rise Above the Prax Max Corporate Wheel. It goes on to talk about things such as "staged play by play played", "fans all over had believed they had won when they in truth did not", "L.A. Tremors and Seattle Seahawks fans rioted over a wicked misunderstanding", and "players broke into the Prax Max boss's house and delivered him to the Sector Police all beat up: No questions asked of all things".

A dark brown short haired man walks up, offering a dollar to the other man.

A very familiar voice insists, "I no need your money, man. Business concern only Jah. Jah is fulfilling the book and passing it down to the people."

The guy slightly smiles, "yes, sir."

He puts the money back into his wallet and walks on with his copy.

For the guy who be on this street corner giving it out…is Herbal Thought: Undercover as a homeless Rastarfari activist in dreadlocks. Undercover for Eyes Only as such a man, to speak of truth to the people.

A hour and a half later, out in Huntington…

Utah was technically hit by the Pulse. But, with most of the populace deep within the Wasatch Front…the electricity didn't just go out. Before it could go out, they were able to plan for it: With waterwheels and windmills along the rivers.

Most every grove of trees has become farmland for a growing populace.

The Benches along the Wasatch Front are full of rock and brick cobbled together houses to the point of looking like a stone age Los Angeles. The winding desert roads stand as a testament to years of hard labor before the towering cliffs.

The crime is just as rampant in the early morning: Especially among the younger and older generations. And, Huntington is no different.

In recent years, the younger people have developed a formidable umbrella cult following: From the polygamous, gay, and lesbian to the punk rock, stripper, and gambling fans. They collectively call themselves The Moral Compass just to give conservatives the middle finger.

The sun casts a long shadow over Huntington. The town has been taken over by a faction of The Moral Compass.

Thirty one military officers and their loved ones are dead in their beds: Shot in their sleep. Some got up and struggled to fight. But, ultimately failed.

A lot more in army green are critically wounded on the rustic roads.

A scared shitless officer with medium black hair sent the email to Eyes Only in desperation…before his cell phone was shattered by a former military officer with dark brown hair in suggestive pink lingerie. Her name is Melissa Striker.

Most of the younger people were kidnapped. And, most of the older people were shot in their cotton made beds: Mormons in particular.

And, the rest of the state could be next. That's where Max comes in.

On top of a red bricked general store's flat roof are the children and teenagers: Knocked out and tied up in improvised cotton sheet bundles. Ten ex-military officers in lingerie and boxer briefs are gathered up on the roof, with dark brown stone crafted shoulder pads and matching rifles.

Melissa comments, "scoff. Call me crazy. But, I ain't seeing why we have to go to this much trouble. We won." A officer with short black hair and boxers mutters, "they're not the only enemy." His name is Dave Heidal.

Max flip swings up from below, landing on her feet before them. Dave claps his hands. He comments, "nice dàmén, Max. Almost didn't think you'd show."

Max uncertainly realizes, "you know who I am?"

In a more mechanical creepy voice, Dave says, "Daisy did. And…now I have you at a disadvantage."

With some faint mechanical whirls sounding off…Dave jump kicks Max off the roof. He calls out, "get the kids out: I got this!"

Melissa nods. She calls the other ex-military officers to order.

They're forming a human conveyor belt for the bundles of bed sheets with their bare hands: To drop down to two mostly dark red loading trucks, with white cushions tied tight to the back of the trucks.

Max crash lands violently into the next flat roof over, with the concrete collapsing in. She roll tumbles over the blue lined white kitchen counter in mid-fall, barely landing on her feet. A tea kettle clinks hard to the floor from the cracked counter, spilling boiling hot water over the crack and over.

Max violently groans, clutching her heavily bruised side.

Over comlink, she checks, "Sydney?"

Over communications, Sydney answers, "yeah. What's up?" Max sums up, "there's two trucks out there. And the kids are going to be taken if we don't hurry."

The ex-soldiers are heading downstairs. Dave is high jumping all the way to the collapsed in roof, armed with two rifles.

Sydney acknowledges, "ok. But, can't you reach them?"

Another part of the roof collapses. Dave tumble kicks off of the rubble to land where Max is. Max instinctively grabs the fallen kettle and blocks his incoming fist with it. Max pinpoints, "not with this pesky bastard in my way! How good are you at cybernetics?"

The rubber skin around the fist is half peeling as the kettle's metal completely bends around it. Yet…Dave is fighting off the intense pain as if it didn't go through. Motor oil, boiling hot water splashes, and dark red liquid is dripping from it in smoke. Max sees it all with her cat like eyes in seconds.

A little rattled, Sydney reasons, "I know a few things. Why?"

Max drops the kettle and ducks as Dave tries to slam it into her. The dented in kettle crashes into a glass cabinet: With glass falling down like thunder.

Max says, "it's kind of a long story. You being jammed?"

Sydney figures, "not really. The new protocol is in place."

Max slightly laughs at the infuriated Dave as she run kick tumbles her way through a painted window. She acknowledges, "good. See what you can do about those trucks first." Sydney adds, "already on it."

At roughly the same time, in a certain classified Eyes Only headquarters…

On one side of the hall, two darkrooms have been repurposed as a compact cafeteria with some cobbled together metal tables and benches. A few chefs in white aprons are preparing the lunch of the day. Past a doorway to the side of the hall is Sketchy: Working on cataloguing at his dust lined wooden desk.

And on the completely other end of the hall… There's two eerie echoes of the past. More specifically, in a locker room of shipped in green lockers.

Kalins and O'Neill are checking their rifles, tasers, walkie talkies, and personal items in their lockers: Like most all the officers do just about every hour.

The Committee may be gone. But, that's left the military still holding most of the cards. So, the only way for Eyes Only International to get its quick startup was to take in most of them: Who had been involved with Manticore before it went under. And, they're not particularly happy about the whole thing themselves.

Kalins wonders casually, "so, you going to the game tonight?" In a quiet but firm tone, O'Neill faintly chuckles, "of course I am: If the radar is clear."

Kalins sighs coldly, "I know the feeling, O'Neill. Logan's "little" X-5 slut and all her "little" friends are smart bombs waiting to go off under our fine cities."

Most of the officers are heading down the hall: Ready to eat soon. A few officers overhear Kalins. But, they mostly just disturbingly chuckle about it.

One of them calls back, "before or after lunch?" Kalins and O'Neill faintly chuckle back. Kalins half jokingly says, "I'd like after." The third officer adds, "I hear that. See you up there." Kalins figures, "yeah. See you up there."

The third officer walks out of the locker room.

O'Neill uncomfortably mutters under his breath, "right. Damn right."

Back in Huntington…

Max acknowledges, "good. See what you can do about those trucks first."

Sydney adds, "already on it." She's right outside her red lined silver ramjet: With hover engines for landing gear to help with faster liftoff and takeoff.

She's in a purple and greenish blue plaid long sleeved open buttoned shirt over black: Holding a circuit covered black crossbow styled EMP gun with light brown rubber gloves. The fairly large electromagnetic rods at the back sides charge up and direct the generated EMP for long distance accuracy when pulled back.

With a backhand hold on both rods, Sydney aims between both trucks.

The Moral Compass faction starts driving the trucks out. Sydney runs in their direction, turning around a light yellow house.

She faintly chuckles, thinking to herself, "nowhere to go but back."

And as soon as the trucks start going at 60 miles a hour…she fires.

The trucks's batteries go out and buckle under stress. Melissa's little army of ex-soldiers try to turn the trucks around fast to stop from going too far off course.

But…the back of one turns straight through the other's front window as its battery goes out. And, the two ex-soldiers inside jump out quick on impulse as the front window shatters. Most of the other ex-soldiers hold on fairly well to the back.

Melissa comes out of her truck, glaring at them all. She shouts, "what the hell happened?!" One of them quickly figures out, "EMP gun. Miles from here."

Melissa mutters harshly, "ain't shouldn't be possible. You sure one of you isn't sticking it to us?! Cause if I find out one of you is…I'll beat the living shit out of ya!" Heated arguing ensues…even with the Utah military coming in tanks to see what the hell is going on themselves.

Through a pair of binoculars, Sydney knows exactly what's doing. She just shakes her head as she heads further back into town.

Simultaneously…

Dave comes out through the wooden door, ripping it off its hinges on the way. He jump slams it into Max from behind to protect himself.

Max smirks, "ohh. I'm not getting your pathetic ego hurt, am I?"

She spins around to splinter the door with her fist. But…Dave expects it.

As soon as he's on his feet…he kicks her across the road.

Max almost chokes on the dark red liquid around her mouth, gasping for air. She punches her own side to make a trail of dark red liquid come out: Coughing violently and losing vision in a blur.

Dave spits to the side. Almost emotionlessly, he says, "check again. I'm not the weaker one: You are for turning us down…when you are about to die."

He walks slowly over towards Max's body…pulling his rifles back out. And, he's about ready to fire.

But then… A focused EMP pulse hits him.

Simultaneously, Sydney mutters under her breath, "not if I can help it."

Dave interestingly closes his eyes…just before the focused pulse hits him.

Sparks of fried circuitry courses through his nervous system…as a trail of motor oil and dark red liquid bursts up from his burning chest.

Max shakily stands on her two feet. She adds, "thanks." Then, she passes out on the pavement. Sydney sighs nervously, "don't…mention it. What…?"

She pauses to briefly look at the burnt all over corpse.

She mutters to herself, "what is…?" Sydney holds up a short circuited dark red liquid soaked neural microchip from Dave's body: Short circuited on purpose in response to his thoughts, along with most of every circuit in his body.

She thinks out, "he knew. Somehow, he knew what I would hit him with. Except, if he knew…"

Then… She goes wide eyed. And, it all becomes too clear, "ohh…no."

Back in Seattle…

A vaguely familiar clean shaven military captain in army green, a very dark blue cap, and a black bulletproof vest underneath is getting into a elevator.

The sight of the tan red and black lined lobby disappears behind the automatically closing silver door. He presses one of the upper level buttons quick…ensuring no one else got in with him. Then…the elevator suddenly jerks.

He grabs ahold of the railing, keeping himself upright.

He mutters, "what the hell is wrong with…?"

The elevator opens on a high-rise rooftop: Overlooking Logan's apartment.

And standing there with a gun pointed right at the captain's head…is Logan.

He greets him coldly, "hello, Captain. Thought I'd find you up here."

In a all too certain location…

Most everyone is eating in the cobbled together cafeteria: From guys in dark gray uniforms to guys in street clothes. Including Bling in a white undershirt and Sketchy in a open mostly light yellow and dark green lined sweatshirt.

Kalins's cellular phone rings. He picks it up in the middle of conversation. He says to O'Neill and company, "sorry. Got to take this."

O'Neill adds, "no problem." He and a few other military officers at the same table continue on, while Kalins steps back out into the hall.

He says very lowly, "yeah? All set? Good." He hangs up.

Kalins pries open a left loose end of railing. And inside…are a few grenades.

Back with Logan…

With nothing but contempt in his voice, the captain comments, "so you're the Eyes Only clown. Only I didn't hear you were the "team captain"."

He's the same guy from many months ago: The same one who was ready to storm in and shoot down Jon Darius, no matter how many hostages could die.

Logan points out, "yeah. Kind of the point of being behind a mask. So, who's pulling the strings around here?"

The captain faintly laughs, "you're in over your head, Eyes Only."

He slams Logan's hand into the elevator doorway with his right. The shot goes off in the elevator, hitting the captain harmlessly in the shoulder part of his bulletproof vest. Logan keeps a faint grip on the gun, even with his throbbing hand.

Logan mutters under his breath, "why stop now?" He punches the captain with his other arm, sending him crashing violently against the elevator.

He clutches both of his hands as they're throbbing in pain. And, he drops the gun. He runs out quick out the elevator and further out onto the roof.

The captain sits up…coughing up a little dark red liquid as he reaches for Logan's gun. And, he reaches up for the open door button.

Logan gets to his wheelchair…oddly placed this far up. He catches his breath, crouching behind the silvery like chair. Logan heavily sighs, out of being a little out of breath. He thinks to himself, "I really hoped I didn't have to use this chair again. But, there's no other way." He takes out a jet black remote control.

As soon as the elevator opens up again…the captain stands ready. He just shakes his head, "faint laugh. You have got to be shitting me. You really think a little wheelchair is going to stop me from shooting you?"

As he gets up to try though… He's looking up…filled with sudden terror.

The wheelchair's armrests pop off: Revealing two gray rifles underneath.

Logan flips the switch. And, before the captain can get out of the way… Both angled up rifles shoot him down at the neckline.

A trail of dark red liquid flies down…as he falls back over dead.

Logan disarms the chair. Then, he gets up and walks over to the dead body.

Trying not to look too long at the body…Logan reaches for the captain's cellular phone. He figures, "now let's see what's going down."

Earlier that day, in the locker room…

Somewhat skeptic sounding, O'Neill muttered, "right. Damn right. And when is this "big defusion" supposed to be happening?! Smart bombs can only be up in the air for so long. And I don't know about you. But, I'd like my wife and me and all our battalion to live for a long time to come."

Bordering on psychotic, Kalins remarked, "I wouldn't be in such a good mood if it wasn't today. Once we're sure the X-5 is nowhere near this facility…we will resolve the situation. For all of us. For Lydecker."

O'Neill and him shook on it. As he did…he echoed back, "for all of us."

Presently…

Before anyone knows what's happening… The grenades are thrown in.

Fire is spreading quick. Everyone either runs for it or stands their ground.

O'Neill and the few with him are left standing: Among a good half of the military personnel. With oxygen masks on. Most of the officers get the full force of the impact: Scorched to death without time to even draw a gun.

Sketchy crouches low. Bling motions for several guys mostly in mostly white Eyes Only security shirts to follow him in. He calls out, "O'Neill?!"

Kalins and a few officers that just came around from the back start tossing rifles over to the officers in gas masks: Including O'Neill.

O'Neill shouts, "everyone on the ground: Now!"

Shots ring through the cafeteria. Glasses and plates smash like thunder.

All the while, the sprinkler system is putting out most of the fire.

In cold anger, Bling mutters, "not if we beat on your cowardly asses first."

Wearing a bulletproof vest and holding up a few…Bling charges for Kalins.

The two side vests are shot away by the momentum of the shots. But, it shields security long enough to load their rifles. And, for most everyone else to get away.

Sketchy runs out the emergency exit, getting lost in the crowd.

Kalins and the few officers in back though gun down several people in street clothes and light blue uniforms: With no hesitance. O'Neill though, who sees it from the corner of his eye…looks very much appalled.

Before he can say act on it though…Bling tackles him violently into a table.

Security shoots many bullets at Kalins's officers: Hoping to at least knock them down from impact to buy themselves some time.

O'Neill's gun goes flying. A burst goes off. But…O'Neill only looks briefly stunned on the head: Despite a lot of metal going into his very torn up uniform. No sign of dark red liquid. And for the first time…Bling looks speechless.

O'Neill faintly chuckles, "nice try. But, we're protecting this country. And, you're in the way." He kicks Bling extremely hard in that instant…sending him crashing through the shattering kitchen window.

Bling is left barely breathing: With some dark red liquid around his mouth and neck, and lying against the refrigerator.

The bullets just bizarrely bounce back into the security officers's rifles: Exploding them from within. They let go in reaction, clutching their reddened hands with a few dark red liquid dropping from them.

Kalin's officers waste no time punching them and kicking them out.

O'Neill picks up his rifle, and walks over to Bling's body. Bling utters, "you'll…violent cough…never get…" And…O'Neill shoots him.

Twenty five minutes after, high above the clouds…

Sydney's ramjet is zooming overhead…heading for the faintly visible wind turbine towers of California. Max is piloting, and Syl is in the co-pilot seat: Both in black catsuits. The cockpit is mostly gray, with a pulp fiction like style to it.

Over communications, Max reports, "we're just thirty two minutes away."

Over in the Eyes Only Rec room back in Seattle… Logan nods, "good. If anyone is left standing…they can use all the help they can get." A few tied up bodies of military officers are seen past his computer terminal. But, with good working officers standing over them: Ready with guns if they try anything.

Max thinks back to a recent blood injection from Syl: With Syl's own blood. Before they took off for California. Her arm is still kind of sore from the tubes.

Max adds solemnly, "don't have to tell me twice. I get it. What about the files?" Logan assures her, "don't worry about it: It's being taken care of."

Syl checks, "and what about Sketchy?"

Logan explains simply, "he's been asking for you. But, he's going to be ok. He's exhausted. But, he's hiding pretty good: Not too far off from the site."

Syl slightly chuckles, "sure sounds like him, all right. Can I talk to him?"

Logan points out simply, "hmm. I don't know. Maybe you should save it for when you're not about to go into a highly time sensitive mission."

Syl thinks openly, "fair point. How about you just let Sketch know that I am "catching up" with a few old rivals from school, and that I'll be back late after beating some lessons into them?" Max gets a hard chuckle out of that one.

Logan figures, "now that I can do. I'll be sure to pass it on to him."

A little short on breath, Max slightly smiles. She suggests, "just take the controls for a second, Syl. I need to breathe." She's catching her breath.

Syl is already reaching over to Max's side of the controls, keeping the ramjet steady. In response to both of them, Syl adds, "thanks. Already on it."

A little embarrassed, Max reasons, "thanks."

Logan checks, "you ok, Max?" More business like, Max insists, "yeah. I'm ok. I just got a recent blood transfusion. A little short on breath is expected."

Logan reasons, "fair point. Let me guess: You both got parallel processing."

Max remarks, "it's a X-5 family thing. But, you kind of got parallel processing too: More or less. No need to feel bad about it." From the other side of communications, Logan faintly smiles, "I'm not. But, thanks."

Max figures, "just telling you how it is. Has Sydney dug up anything?"

With a printed out autopsy report, Logan reports, "yeah. And…it's kind of spooky." Max checks, "really? How spooky?"

Logan reveals uneasily, "the guy had liquid metal, Max: Fused throughout his entire body somehow. Most anything else was shorted out beyond recognition."

Max mutters under her breath, "damn. Sure not my kind of body shop."

Logan sarcastically says, "you don't say. But…it gets worse."

Max looks to the clouds while steering the ramjet downward. She retorts, "at this point? Doubt it. I've been to the Manticore hellhole and lived to tell about it."

Logan breaks it down, "well… That's because you haven't heard the rest of the story. The same guys who tried to commandeer our home base and kill me over it? They have liquid metal in hot water bottles. Any bullets going in releases the liquid metal over their bulletproof vests. In goes instant armor."

Max thinks back to the dented in kettle: In her fight with Dave.

With a ghostly pale look, Max realizes, "that attack in Utah. It was no coincidence. These cybernetic heavyweights: They wanted me to go out there."

Logan mutters, "my god. You better hurry then. Because if past encounters with them are any indication…they could very well have plans for our mutineers."

Max comments, "doesn't mean I have to like helping them though."

With elbows up, Logan sighs hard, "I know. You and Syl just do what you got to do." Max figures, "good idea. Thanks." Logan adds, "no problem."

Not long after…

Kalins and his most trusted officers are in the Rec room styled control room of the Eyes Only California base: Overlooking the domes through security cams, behind the front of a movie theater restoration project and several others.

Kalins asks one of them, "what about the files?" The second officer deduces, "I'm trying to access them, sir. But, without a password… It could be a while."

Kalins mutters impatiently, "then get Mister Heidal on the phone. Unless you all have a death wish…we should have them before the X-5 comes back!" The second officer nervously says, "understood."

Very seriously, O'Neill inquires, "Kalins…can I talk to you alone?"

Kalins slightly nods, "yeah. Sure. Let's go."

They head back out down the hall, and into the locker room.

When it's just them… O'Neill press, "ok. What were you thinking, man?!"

Kalins comments, "now, what are you getting all upset over? We secured this building!" O'Neill pinpoints, "and killed innocent people while doing it!"

Kalins mutters harshly, "hmm. Ok. Then maybe you should've stayed home with your big pissy wife and left man's work to someone less damn squeamish!"

O'Neill punches him against a locker, knocking him down.

O'Neill shouts, "don't you dare bring my wife into this! Bling and all of them? That's one thing. But, not civilians for god's sake!"

Kalins gets up: Physically rattled, with a bruise on the back of his head.

He just scoffs, "I don't believe this. Any sympathy for the enemy gets you killed: Just like Stryker! You want to end up like him, O'Neill?! Is that what…?"

O'Neill doesn't answer. And before Kalins can put up much of a fight…he shoots Kalins. Kalins falls over dead.

Close to tears, O'Neill reflects, "at least I know who is the worser enemy."

Then…the back door goes flying off the hinges. Syl and Max come in.

With a rifle ready, Syl says, "don't even think about it." O'Neill drops his rifle. He says sadly, "after today… I'm not sure what to think anymore."

Max wonders nervously, "what happened?"

With intense mixed feelings, O'Neill mutters, "Kalins led the mutiny. But…I never wanted them to kill civilians. It's too late for them. But, it wasn't too late to kill him."

Max comments harshly, "and what about Security? What about their lives? You think that makes you any less of a bastard if it went your way?!"

Suddenly… A explosion goes off in the control room. The second officer's hot water bottle explodes with liquid metal around a remote activated bomb. And, the electrical systems start burning up from the burning screaming body.

All the electricity goes out in one fell swoop…along with the lights. One of the officers there calls out, "move!" The two officers left make a run for it.

O'Neill says, "I don't expect forgiveness. I just know the country deserves better." Syl coldly adds, "isn't that the truth. So, what do we do about this guy?"

Max punches O'Neill out. She figures, "come on. We're wasting time."

Max and Syl start charging down the stairs. Syl comments, "you sure showed more forgiveness than I would." Max says, "not forgiveness: The mission is more important now." With a faint chuckle, Syl adds, "my mistake then."

Four officers come charging up.

But, Syl guns them down by aiming for their heads before they can fire.

Syl silently motions to Max. Max nods, and silently motions to her.

Max jumps down to the lower level: Kicking two officers over on the way down, and leaving them open for Syl to shoot them in the head.

She side kicks over the bodies, knocking over several more officers. She runs past…heading after the two soldiers trying to run out a open back door.

Meanwhile… Syl uses her rifle as a club: Taking out two of them before being tackled by three of them. But, she flip kicks one violently into the stairs. And, she slams the two left into each other to stun them.

Max mutters, "just not your lucky day. Is it?" She side kicks one soldier into the concrete wall. And, she snaps the neck of the other on impulse.

Max sighs in cold relief: Thinking it's all over. But…in a single moment… She hears a all too familiar voice. And, it hurts.

A terrified voice calls, "Max?" In no dreadlocks…Herbal was standing there the whole time: Originally hoping just to get back safely to a second ramjet. With the original files copied and deleted, as Logan instructed him to do.

Without another word…Herbal runs out the back.

Max doesn't even say anything: She just bends over…and cries and cries.

For as much as she wants it to be all right… For as much as Eyes Only has helped save lives… Max knows all too well that this is far from over.


	6. Episode 6: Us or the Hatchet?

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 6:

Nine days later…

Max is thinking to herself:

Eleven years ago, the Pulse hit us. Ok. The US: To be more "PC" or whatever.

Anyway… Mexico was next.

But, with everyone at the top finding out from the desert lands up north ahead of the curve... Corporate and otherwise... It only led to a bigger divide.

Millions of Americans turned desperate tried to force their way over, and the police were shooting them on sight. Drug dealers and hitmen joined in, just so they could wipe the police on their pathetic asses. And, the poor were caught right in the middle.

Faint sigh. Which of those guys are sicker? I'll never know.

When high society and crap came back in though... Even they knew it had gone too far. So, most of them agreed over using the power they had left...to hire corporate heads as the new heads. Some were not too thrilled about it. But, most of the government of yesteryear had already rolled over by then.

Security and mercenaries swarmed in overnight. And, Mexico's safety as a nation was assured for many years to come. Scoff. If you could call it that.

A lot are either kicking it up north and stealing hovercars, or sitting all too comfortably in well paid desk jobs. Where I am right now is no different really.

It may not be a entire country in my head. But... Faint sniffle. Must feel like a real big bitch to get through the day all the same. I feel for them.

Honestly...I don't know how they work through it: Pulse or no Pulse.

But, I got to see this bitch through to be straight up real: Before I let something come bite off my ass. All because I might as well have let down everything that meant everything to me in this trippin' ass broken world! Sniffle!

In a few hours time...

It's a cold sunset overhead: Over the cobblestone labyrinth of Mexico.

In Mexico City… The hovercars and hovertrucks cruise over and under the fifty stories of metal reinforced bridges across the cross and Mexican golden eagle decorated pillars. Windowed open plazas of mostly white and light brown are built from within: With quadruple groupings of roofless cobblestone house complexes.

Winding up light blue web dome like lifts bring residents up and down: Bulletproof glass and all. They work inside too: Just as well protected elevators.

There are no roads: Only cobblestone brick paths with mostly dark red and dark green cobblestone buildings to walk in. Between the cobblestone path bridges are a wired grid of electromagnetic locks to keep the hovercars in place.

The walls look tagged with washed over hints of graffiti…or dark red liquid.

Hovering billboards hover in the sky of Viridiana, El Laberinto del Fauno, "Rise of the Vat People", "The Mystic Golden Eagles of Fun," Arrow, Gotham, and "Southland Tales: The Motion Comic in its 2nd season" among many others.

Hangars for small wood like electromagnet run planes are in place for the most dire of emergencies: At ground level and up top.

Churches and schools are built on the very top: Mostly Catholic churches, and compactly grouped public schools that teach from Elementary to College levels. All as cost cutting measures, and for some all too comfortable convenience.

Most other cities in Mexico don't even have that much diversity on the upper levels. They are mainly Catholic, and try their best to avoid the lower levels altogether. Everyone with unpopular opinions are on the lower levels: Evil or not. Right or not.

And, with corporate security overseeing the upper levels for their idolized corporations…they don't bother much with the lower levels. They're collectively called Bullforce: In a morbid sort of honor towards bullfighting. They wear dark brown cross plated armor, with matching helmets and bullhorn like shoulder plates.

Though, in the capital cities…attitudes are a lot more relaxed and open on both sides of the coin. That doesn't mean they're completely devoid of crime of course: It just means they're the best cities Mexico has to offer in the year 2020.

The distant figure of Max in her signature catsuit is hanging under a winding lift: Coldly taking in everything from twelve kilometers up with her cat like eyes.

Not very long after, many levels down…

Past the rural farms and fruitful tree groves… Past the dirt roads and garbage heaps winding around at ground level… Max is fast walking from tree to tree.

Not far off is a rundown storefront in faint blue and white.

The lights are shot to hell. And, most of the place is burned away in ash.

But, in the dark… One candle is lit over a small wood table.

Many cloaked figures with modified Olympic Class 98 skeleton pistols stand before a man. The man is in a silvery black cloak over bright white shoulder pads.

He is Father Firebrand. And he's every bit as trigger happy as he sounds.

Creepily calm, he calls forth in Spanish, "are all our guns here and loaded?"

All the figures murmur impatiently or uncertainly as they raise their guns up. Some though are too drugged or too tired to even know what club they got into.

Father Firebrand rallies the restlessness, "then it is the day: For our hunt revolution! The omnibus of the mm beasts in the stone has been up in power for many a full moon. But, it is our time now: For us to take back our godforsaken right to hunt the estúpidos eating away at our country's godforsaken soil!"

Many cries of joy and uncertainty echo about. The cries are cut short though…when they suddenly see Max with her knife at Father Firearm's throat.

She viciously mutters, "don't tempt me. Give your guns up, stay away from the higher ups…and I might actually go easy on your pathetic male egos."

Father Firebrand boldly mutters, "slight laugh. Lady…we're all about guns. You really think our revolution will die with me?"

Some of the figures laugh as well. Most of them don't even lower their guns.

With eyes full of fury, Max voices, "too bad for you guys that I'm no lady."

She slits Father Firearm's throat and spin kicks his body into several guys.

Their gunfire fires into a few others: Mortally wounding them with high speed sewing needles, with small dark red liquid trails seeping out through their shirts.

The candle is half shot off: Landing in and lighting up a ash pile in mere seconds.

Max charge flips over…taking out a matching knife in mid-flip.

In black and white… Max is thinking back to the treasonous attack on the Eyes Only headquarters in California: Over and over, as if it was on a time loop.

Presently… Max viciously stabs a screaming drugged guy in the heart.

She in seconds up kicks another into the flames.

Plenty of rounds of needles shoot out from the shadowy figures's pistols.

Several of them puncture through Max's upward leg all over. She groans in piercing pain as she side tumbles away from many more shooting out needles.

From the floor, she slam rams the top of her shaky leg's needles down into the chest of a screaming guy. In the next second, she throws her knives into the chests of the two guys on either side of her.

Then…cold realization hits.

Jace calls out to her, "what the hell are you playing at?!"

The fire had gone out…thanks to Jace with a fire extinguisher: In all black and with tied back hair. The eight guys left are just left unconscious.

Max shakily tries to get up. But, she ends up crouching down in a pulsing seizure.

A little short on breath and teary eyed, Max mutters lowly, "what?! They were all soldiers! They were all soldiers…weren't they?"

Jace stands before her: A lot like how Max stood before her when she was in bed and in her latent phase. But, more intense than calm.

She sighs, "not all of them, Max. I smelled strong traces of cocaine and nicotine as I was following Mister Firebrand himself."

Slightly amused, Max comments, "damn. Almost forgot about your wolf DNA."

She's in the process of pulling out the needles from her leg: Which feel a lot like ripping off stuck on band aids.

Jace voices, "clearly…it's not all you've forgotten. We don't kill unless we have to. Zack wasn't exactly the best at sticking to it. But…you know."

Max solemnly nods, "yeah. I kind of do. But…I also kind of don't know anymore." Jace faintly smiles, "least you can admit it. You want to talk about it?"

With a faint bittersweet smile…Max answers, "not really. But… Not like I have much of a choice after tonight."

That very same night, back over in Seattle…

Past some mostly faint green and brown apartment complexes, out past the alley out back… A mostly gray metal warehouse stands firm.

Many warehouses and city blocks since the Pulse were repurposed by legal and illegal immigrants alike: Scrambling for shelter amongst the rioting.

But, this one is different than many.

It's got a blocky red, green, and yellow door, and The Lion of Judah over it.

Out back is a silvery trailer, with a door not dissimilar to the one out front.

Inside is Herbal's bike, resting against the wall. A faintly visible picture in the dark of Herbal's "woman" is high up against another wall, above a white set of drawers for cannabis and things. Her hair is smooth long black uncut hair. And, her cool collected bluish black lipstick covered smile stands out: Even in the dark.

Herbal though is not smiling.

Low angry sounding, Herbal voices, "Jah does not give a man more than him can bear. What part of that don't you overstand?!"

Standing against the door, Sketchy points out, "I do overstand. But…you seem to be getting upset. And, that's really starting to terrify me."

Herbal takes a deep breath. He then turns back to Sketchy, "that is exactly what I've been trying to protect you from, my brother."

A little more worried, Sketchy figures, "well, unless this has to do with something with Syl… I don't see it. It's not her, is it?"

Herbal reasons, "not exactly. But…the thought has crossed the mind of I. It's about Max." Sketchy looks stunned, "what?"

Herbal reflects, "I saw her kill, Sketch. I saw her snap the neck of a man like she done it many times."

Sketchy sighs heavily, "knowing Max, I don't doubt it for a second. I didn't know. But, I don't doubt it. But…didn't you say before that love in spite of evil is good?"

Herbal faintly smiles in mixed reflection, "ahh. But, that is my concern. Can you do wicked things for love against evil and still be forgiven? Or, will it just add more wheels to the wheels of Babylon?"

Sketchy reluctantly realizes, "I'm afraid I'm just not man enough to give you a good answer, Herbal. But…I know someone who can."

On the following morning, in Mexico…

There's a rather unusual complex on the 39th story of a cobblestone pillar.

Rather than being light colored and simply nice… Reddish graffiti is everywhere: Saying "gun for the truth and never surrender!", "Pulse all a front to be torn down?", and the like. Most of the lights hang by single wires. And, a bookshelf with a lot of Glock Bullforce issue pistols and wallets is covered up by a ripped off green window curtain: Some of which have traces of dark red liquid.

Yet…there's a lot more here than meets the eye.

Jace's baby boy Max is sleeping in a wooden crib in Televisa logo covered pajamas: Not far from the worn out white couch, where Jace and Max are sitting before a left off jet brown TV. Jace has her hair let down, and a angelic white dress robe on. Max wears a dark blue purplish top, with a big sticker like version of her Ninja painted on.

With her hair let down, Jace realizes, "and he just ran?" Max sadly nods, "yeah."

Her leg is in a cast. But, the traces of dark red liquid through it are much fainter than one might expect.

Jace faintly sighs, "damn. I can only try to imagine what that's been like."

Sort of uneasily, Max reflects, "if you want to get yourself feeling down, I guess: Except I don't want you to."

Faintly smiling, Jace reasons, "still…better than feeling down alone. We're sisters." Max concludes, "thanks." Jace adds, "you're welcome."

Over in the next room, a youngish man calls out in Spanish, "hey, Max: We're out of Carnitas!" His name is Incendio. He has medium messy blondish brown hair and a jet black jacket over a ripped yellow and dark red lined arcade maze T-shirt and black jeans. And, he's sitting before a yellow computer screen.

Max scoffs, "not our problem. Can't you just go out and buy some?" Incendio figures, "and leave my troops? I'm shooting up Azteca here!"

All the while, Jace is rocking baby Max to calm him down from his tantrum: Reactively blocking his little legs from kicking her with her free hand.

Heavily annoyed, Max sighs to herself.

She walks right over to Incendio's computer and unplugs it.

Incendio glares in her face, shouting, "qué demonios funcking!"

Max irritatedly says, "It's just a game, idiot: It automatically saves!"

Incendio mutters harshly, "fine. Be perra! But, when the Cartel comes in asking for Ben McCall…don't go crying for help expecting me to save you!"

Max mutters sarcastically, "thanks. But, I think we'll manage." Incendio dusts off the crumbs from his shirt and storms out: Slamming the door behind him.

Max checks, "is Max ok?"

Jace faintly assures, "yeah: He's something of a trooper himself."

Max thinks out loud, "that's good." She thinks back to everything else, "so, what am I supposed to do? I can't exactly stay on vacation up here forever."

Out of deep thought, Jace concludes, "the way I see it… You either give in to the unspoken propaganda around you and become a monster…or don't give in and continue your ongoing mission to be better than the monsters."

Sort of skeptical, Max questions, "and if it's coming from another brother?"

Jace reasons, "hmm. That's a lot harder. I'm no deep thinker. But…you told me once that "everything matters except the objective"."

Kind of already not liking where this is going, Max nods, "that's right."

Jace puts out her viewpoint, "anything you don't want to follow can feel like propaganda. What matters is what you follow: Not a single mission. And, not a single any one thing. What it comes down to is what matters more to you: Protecting the possible good in everyone you can…or fighting for your friends and only them."

Max comments bittersweetly, "I switched up those objectives more than once so I could get through one bitch after another. But…with all the injustice in the world… It's not something I've really cared to think about all that much."

Jace reasons, "then maybe it's time you give it some final thoughts: Figure out what really matters in your bigger mission." Annoyedly, Max faintly sighs, "yeah. Sounds worse than just another bitch to get through in the life of me."

Jace suggests lightly, "hmm. Maybe some TV could help." Max is quick to say, "I'm not so sure about that. But…you really think so?"

Jace deduces, "maybe. I don't know you well enough to say for sure. I got to get ready for work. But, go ahead if you want."

Max slightly shrugs, "guess it couldn't hurt. Later."

As Jace goes over to the cobblestone carved bathroom, Max grabs the Televisa logo branded white and yellow ribboned antenna styled remote.

She turns on the TV…which appears with the XHGC-TV red casino coin like logo on the right. Right above it is a Spanish title: "AstroChemzo: El película."

A radiation radiated man in a mostly jet black astronaut styled cybernetic suit is running down a dark ancient Aztec corridor.

He's shooting gamma rays out of his suit's dark green fingertips at humanoid mud blobs. They're firing back with mud eye like missile probes.

Their probes are dropping dead before his gamma rays. But, a lot more are coming.

Catching his breath behind a corner… The man mutters in Spanish, "shit! I can't last much longer like this. How much further can the Purifier Fetus be?!"

Looking more disgusted than disturbed, Max quickly changes the channel.

It changes to news, with the XEW-TV red and white split star shield like logo. A reporter by the name of Maripon is onscreen before a green screen relayed scene. She has a semi-traditional black dress and slightly curly long black hair with light blue streaks.

In a slightly husky sounding voice, Maripon discloses, "…from the eastern bridges of Guanajuato. Thousands of armed machismos got together by daybreak to kidnap hundreds of women, gunning for anyone in their way."

The scene shows thousands of tired men with black business suits and loosely put together casual shirts: With pistols aimed at hundreds of sobbing women. They ran past several metal styled medieval like nightclubs with Spanish and English rock and electronic music aplenty. Closing in was a military task force of two hundred women in silver cross patterned Kevlar, with priestess like bulletproof helmets.

Sounding highly content with things, Maripon finishes, "we were truly blessed to have most of our families sleeping at the time in question...and the machismos fighting their own sins to stay awake. The Guardians of Virginity took them down easily: With no harm to anyone. And, now for the weather."

But, with Max's cat like eyes…she sees from a closer look that it's really digitally overlaid over the real scene: Families protesting before a few hundred Bullforce officers. Sobbing protestors were being beaten to death…while their loved ones try to fight back.

Over a marble white corded cellular like phone, Max calls up, "Raul?"

In a militant voice, Raul inquires, "yeah?"

With suddenly very mixed feelings…Max explains briefly, "I think I've possibly come across a mission for Eyes Only." Raul confirms, "on my way."

In black and white… Max is thinking back to that collection of pistols and wallets…and shot dead bodies falling before a shadow like figure in a black jacket.

Presently… She hangs up.

Into the late afternoon, up in Logan's apartment…

Herbal wonders, "so…what was it like? Seeing Max for the first time?"

He's sitting in a side chair in a light blue T-shirt, facing Logan. Logan is on the couch in a dark red T-shirt. And, it doesn't look like he likes where this is going.

He reasons, "let's just cut to the chase. What Max knows, I know. I know what happened. And…I can not help but blame myself for it."

Herbal figures, "why? Did you teach her to kill?" Logan sighs deeply. He continues, "that's not what I meant. I sent you there. You ran into her."

Herbal concludes insistently, "no: It is always good of me to overstand. But then… Why are you defending her?"

Logan highlights, "we've had arguments: Just like any couple. But… I've also learned the hard way that there is no stopping her from doing what she's got to do. You have no idea what she has gone through."

Very uneasily, Herbal faintly nods, "maybe not. But, I'm beginning to."

Logan adds, "maybe. But, it doesn't have to stop there."

Herbal starts to get up. He reasons coldly, "give me one good reason."

Logan replies solemnly, "sure. I'll give you one."

He picks up a yellow envelope from the table. He starts opening it.

Logan explains, "she thought you'd come asking me about her sooner or later. Said she didn't know what else she could do."

Inside the envelope is a crumply letter…along with a stone tablet copy of a fairly familiar painted icon. It's of Max being blessed by little angel children.

As Herbal reads the letter… He finds himself speechless and teary eyed.

It says this:

Herbal,

Honestly, I've never been good at writing these things.

I know how you feel about wicked things. And, I'm afraid I am more of a bitch than you thought was ever possible.

Maybe I shouldn't have kept so much from you. But…I've been experimented on and chased by a aptly named organization called Manticore.

I have superpowers. And, for better and for worse…they've been there.

I've hidden what I am from most everyone out there: Fearing I'd be put back in a cage. It was only natural to think it would be ok to hide it all from you.

My God…I'm so sorry.

I get all too well that that doesn't make it any better. But, is there a slim chance that it does? Maybe.

-Max

Logan voices, "I know it'll never be the same with her. All I'm asking is that you don't throw away your friendship unless you're sure it's what you want."

As nightfall starts to fall…

After some more hands on investigating…Max found out what the protests are all about: A self owned corporate owned hospital chain called Organo Barajar.

Every city owns nothing but chains over shadowed stories of high bridges.

A lot of sons and fathers have been vanishing from the lower levels: Near dying or worse. And, no corporation in Mexico wants to report it since they either are not paying for corporate services or don't agree with their services.

But…some families have family on both the upper levels and lower levels. And, their escalating calls for answers have been circulating through large protests.

Most of them were quietly buried by the easily bribed Bullforce. But, Televisa dared to rewrite the story for ratings and then report on one.

Max in turn has convinced Raul to part with a good sum of his money to bribe their way past the Bullforce. He has medium dark brown hair with some grey hairs, built build, black sunglasses, white jeans, a jet black jacket over red…and not much to be happy for.

Raul says, "fine. But, I think this is just asking to be shot down." Max says, "fine."

Incendio adds, "yeah. We could have killed them all. qué demonios funcking?!"

Max mutters back impatiently, "you got a better idea that would get us there faster?!" Silence follows. Max figures, "yeah: Just as I thought. Let's go."

Max with Jace and company reach a hangar up top to commandeer a few small wood like planes. The paid off company leaves shortly after.

As they fly on for Organo Barajar…

Many miles out… The Post-Pulse megacity of Monterrey has skyscrapers of all black towering into the white clouds above. Solar panels and electrical converter lightning rods power all of Monterrey from the highest altitudes.

There are no homes on the ground: Only apartments and offices in separate skyscrapers. Beyond that, there are only rings of greenhouses and desert.

Black windowed glass bridges and purple rimmed gray monorails help everyone get to work and back: With tank like armor built to withstand a tornado.

Backup monorails double as tanks for Monterrey's own Bullforce: Making Monterrey almost impenetrable to enemies. Countless others have tried. But, they have never returned. And, five years ago…they just stopped trying altogether.

Further out to the west is the rest of Northern Mexico.

The marble like stone pavement winds around and around flat roofed brightly orange to green storefront like homes and grayer cobblestone like storefronts. They're all between a network of purplish metal telephone lines shrouded in thick barbed wire.

Portable radios and TVs, cellular phones, and guns are the main luxuries…and only through the black market. Everything else is a collection of Aztecan and Mayan relics amongst ribbons of clothes and buckets of bathwater.

Max is looking out to it all, thinking to herself:

I wanted to get to see Western cliques at their best. But, this is far from it.

The men are men with the big ass guns, and the honest men are just trying to get by on what little they have got.

Raul and Incendio may get bent getting their shoot on. But, out here in Mexico… They're the only soldiers we got. Kind of reminds me of my inner bitch, really.

Faint sigh. For better and for worse… I feel for them.

When they're over Organo Barajar headquarters…

Max says sarcastically, "you know, that doesn't sound like much of a plan."

Over communications, Raul figures, "we have a plan: Shoot out law enforcement and raid." Max reasons eerily, "I know. That's why you're stopping here, where all the whack guys packing boy toy guns will be heading once their boss's life is threatened."

Raul deduces emotionlessly, "works for us."

Incendio says annoyedly, "all right. But, don't give us orders."

Wanting to just get this over with, Max just rolls her eyes, "whatever."

Raul dives his wood like plane out from the clouds…and straight into a row of black windows on the top floor. They shatter on impact. The gray suited executives inside cover their ringing ears as high speed glass pieces fly into their wood made desks.

Max hard dives her wood like plane onward for the central level.

In the back, Jace checks, "you sure there aren't good people up there?"

Max pinpoints, "if they are, they've gone mercenary. A lot of good people died trying to infiltrate Monterrey's companies." Jace figures, "fair point. I'm just kind of worried about you." Max adds, "duly noted."

Back on the highest level…

Raul and Incendio take out Glock pistols, firing away. Two executives drop dead.

One of the executives calls out, "Ripper Fire!"

Incendio goes, "qué demoni…?!"

A stone like door opens. Coming marching out is a man with medium spiky brown hair, bulging muscles, and flaming yellow tipped clawed gloves. He menacingly grins.

Raul faintly sighs, "you just had to ask, didn't you?"

Ripper Fire charge slashes at Raul. He duck tumbles under a desk.

The desk lights aflame, along with the computer on top.

The explosion knocks Raul violently against the green carpeted floor. But, he's still got his gun: Even with the wind knocked out of him.

Taking out a second pistol, Incendio calls out, "over here, you hijo de puta!"

He fires with both of them straight into Ripper Fire's right glove's tips.

Ripper Fire roars in pain as the glove lights aflame, with brief flashes of bone.

He kicks out a desk, pinning Incendio against the front of Raul's wood like plane. The impact pushes it precariously toward the sky below.

All the while, the few executives left are making a run for the elevator.

Many floors down…

Max and Jace are checking all the floors from 40 to 80 by riding on top of the construction site styled elevator…looking out to the hallways one by one.

Jace checks, "see anything?" Max answers, "I'll let… Make that now."

They tumble off as it keeps heading up.

They come out to a hallway with construction site styled double doors. A cart is out here, with many dark orange toolboxes filled with hair thin conductive metal needles. Only some emergency stairs, bathrooms, and elevators are at the sides of the hallway.

Jace whispers, "so where are they?" Max points ahead, "where else?"

Max is about to move in with Jace. But, as she does, she catches the sight of another elevator. And, with her cat like eyes…she sees the retreating executives through the crack of the elevator door.

Max hesitates.

Jace checks, "Max?"

After some slow seconds… Max uneasily decides, "right behind you."

Around the same time, back up on the top floor…

Raul smirks, "I suggest you pray."

As Ripper Fire charges for Incendio…Raul shoots him in the head. His body falls to the carpeted floor, lighting the rest of the room aflame in seconds.

But, Raul's smirk soon vanishes as he realizes Incendio is still pinned down.

Incendio calls out sarcastically, "anytime now!"

Raul gets enough of his strength back to get back up.

The wallets of the fallen dead are all burned away. But, this time…he doesn't care. What matters now to him is saving Incendio.

He runs through the flames. Raul calls out over the crackling, "I'm coming!"

The sprinkler system kicks in. But, the fire won't be out in twenty seconds.

Raul takes off his burning up jacket. And, he keeps on running.

Raul grabs the desk and hurls it into the fading flames.

Incendio tumbles away just in time…as the wood like plane falls out of the skyscraper and crash splinters into a greenhouse at thousands of feet down.

Incendio figures, "about maldito time! Did you get the wallets?"

Raul comments harshly, "no: Your little fire stunt did that."

Incendio retorts, "oh! So I should've just not saved you, you ungrateful gilipollas?!" Raul figures, "I could've shot him easy. You should've gone for the wallets, _estúpido_!" He pushes him, much to Incendio's heated astonishment.

And they just argue on and on: Even as they finally head for the elevator.

Back with Max and Jace…

Once the coast is for sure clear… Max signals to Jace.

Jace kicks the doors open, while Max comes rushing in to check inside.

But, nothing prepares them for what they see.

Max gasps, "oh my God."

For in this stadium sized room…are bluish green lit shower-bed hybrid chambers with the missing bodies of a hundred Mexican men: With traces of body wash on the inner walls, and constantly wearing out electrically charged needles around their heads, chests, and joints. Hanging on hooks are black felt head masks: For "business attire".

But, even as the alarm continues to go… Only now do they start to move.

Not long after…

Jace and Max back up…realizing the nearly naked bodies are moving somewhat fast in their underwear. Their eyes are closed. Yet, they're bizarrely picturing purple pill like people, a prostitute army with bazookas, and joyous wives, husbands, and siblings.

Jace turns to her, "now what?! We can't hurt them."

Suddenly getting a idea, Max grimly smiles, "pull the breaker circuits…fast."

Jace looks uncertainly at her, "all right. But…you sure?"

Max insists, "there's no time to explain now: Just do it!"

Max holds off some zombie like guys by spin kicking at them. They reactively back away as she and Jace fast walk through the doors.

Max quickly props them shut with the cart of nails and her own strength. But, the chaotic cries and arms are already beginning to break through.

Jace opens up a circuit breaker box by ripping off the hinges. And, she quickly switches on all the circuit breakers at once.

They both reactively close their eyes…as a very bright white light goes off.

From every floor... The lights overload as the power goes out.

The zombie like guys cry out in near blinding pain.

But, in no time at all… They really start to open their eyes to what's going on.

They're extremely embarrassed. But, they mostly feel blessed for waking up at all.

Most of them run off. But, some stop to thank Max before awkwardly running off.

Still very much confused, Jace turns to Max, "so, how did you know what to do?"

With some mixed feelings, Max reasons simply, "their closed eyes weren't just for experimentation: They were sleepwalking."

Jace uncomfortably nods, "a hospital's attempt at a "better soldier". Here's hoping they don't try again." Max figures, "yeah."

On their way out… Jace wonders, "and how are you holding up?" Max faintly smiles, "it was touch and go for a bit there. But…I think I'll be ok."

A few days later, in a very familiar skating rink from days gone by…

In her jet black jacket, a teary eyed Max realizes, "so… Sniffle. That's it then?"

With his mosaic like mostly brown vest on, Herbal solemnly says, "I get that you're just fulfilling the book the only way you know how. I don't judge you for that. But, we can no longer be brother and sister: The waters are just too deep."

Max sadly reasons, "I wish we still were. But, at least there's some justice in that."

Teary eyed himself… Herbal hugs her for the last time. Max hugs him back…with a few tears running from her eye.

And after some long seconds… They pull away.

Herbal says, "take care, Max." Max says, "you too."

And with that in mind… Herbal walks alone: Into the smog covered sunset.


	7. Episode 7: Kicking it Midway

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 7:

Hours into the following night, at Crash…

Original Cindy is sitting at a table by herself: In her jet black jacket over a dark blue t-shirt with dark purple shaded XY chromosomes across, looking kind of spaced and drinking beer.

Then, out of the blue… Max says, "hey. Want some company?"

She's in her dark red top and jet black jacket, carrying over a pitcher of beer.

Original Cindy slightly chuckles, "hey yourself."

Max sits down beside her. Sounding kind of worried, she wonders, "you ok? Seems like there's more on your mind than just beer."

Original Cindy faintly smiles, "just gotten out of almost marrying a sweet rich girl. Turns out she can't remember a thing without her secretary jotting it down for her. Not too big of a bitch to get through though."

Amused and sympathetic all at once, Max adds, "ouch. Still…if you're into rich… I'm sure Logan's got connections. Could hook you up with one."

Original Cindy shakes her head, "thanks. But, Original Cindy is not gonna rely on C.R.E.A.M. alone to get through life." She changes the subject, "besides…me and Syl had been beginning to wonder if a "manticore" came back with its multi-ugly heads or what."

Max pours herself some beer. She faintly chuckles, "I'd be real damned if I didn't turn out to kick their asses for good. Kicked some corporate guys's asses from behind though. So, yeah: I think I'm good."

Original Cindy comments, "damn, girl! Trouble seems to find you like Xena with a Chakram."

She finishes her bottle.

With very mixed feelings, Max says, "tell me about it." She drinks some.

Original Cindy reasons, "there'll be plenty of time to hear it, shugga. Looks like trouble is knocking."

A guy walks into Crash. He's bald, has black stubble, a faint black mustache, and a jet black jacket like Max's over light green plaid over dark blue.

He's in his mid 20's. But, he carries on like he's thirty.

With her cat like eyes from a distance, Max instantly knows she's seen him before. But, she can't quite place it yet.

Sounding almost lost in thought, Max wonders, "the gross man genes kind or the kicking ass kind?" Original Cindy laughs, giving her a fist bump.

She points out, "we'll be sure to find out."

The guy walks over towards them. Cool and yet quick sounding, he addresses Max, "excuse me. Are you Mrs. Anselmo?"

Faint images of Bruno Anselmo come into her mind's eye like a tidal wave.

With a quickly forming glare, Max looks about ready to knock him down, "where the hell would you…?!"

Just as she's about to lift him up by his jacket though… It all falls into place.

In black and white… Max was thinking back to a faintly familiar biker bar.

Bruno called out, "hey bartender! I want to get a water and vinegar for this douche bag over here." Max was looking at him like he's drunk or something. The guy in the black jacket was further back, casually talking to some random woman.

Bruno and his opponent were about to fight…when Max threw his opponent across the bar. Two guys looking for action were quickly met with being beat up.

Max handcuffed Bruno's hand to hers before saying, "let's go."

As they both walked out, Bruno muttered, "not bad for a girl."

Max remarked, "I was just pretending they were you, sweetheart."

Presently…

Embarrassed and angry at herself at the same time… Max realizes, "ohh. Sorry. You didn't know."

The guy is looking very confused. Maybe a bit nervous too.

On the fly, Original Cindy figures, "umm…I got work tomorrow. But, you gonna be aiight here Boo?"

Red in the face, Max assures her, "yeah. I think I will. But, thanks."

Original Cindy faintly smiles, "anytime, Boo."

She leaves them both be.

Max gets down to business, "ok. What do you want?"

The guy heavily sighs. He sits down at the table.

Max joins him uneasily.

He explains himself, "I'm not looking for trouble. All I know is that you're a very good trooper for someone's side, and that I came out here looking for help."

Max remarks, "this isn't one of those whack man fetish club recruitment deals, is it? Cause you're this close to being a whack."

The guy faintly chuckles, "no. Far from anything sexual."

Relieved in a sympathetic way, Max faintly smiles, "then I got all night."

Ten minutes after…

The guy voices, "damn. That is deep. A super trooper from the front lines, and I didn't even know."

Max comments, "well…not exactly. Just a very dark angel who's good at kicking typical and superpowered asses. Got to say though I'm kind of relieved you're not such a pervo after all."

With a hint of a smile, Devrom reflects, "well, now I know. To better understand you a little though, I got to ask: Who are you really then?"

Max finishes her beer.

She states simply, "name's Max Guevera. How about you?"

The guy figures, "Devrom. In the Free Zone, it's the only name that matters."

Max suddenly changes her tune, "suddenly, I'm not liking the sound of this. Heard scientologists are supposed to be like preacher whacks or something."

Devrom faintly laughs, "that's all right. The Church of Scientology are exactly that: Preacher whacks. As soon as the incident with the Pulse came, most of all of them thought we were good as dead squirrels out here. Someday though, when the war with Xeno ends… The Free Zone will be free again. And, all us true scientologists can rest in peace."

With a double edge to it, Max voices, "chuckle. Don't think I'm that "high-minded". But, if it's free for all? I'd go for that in a heartbeat."

Devrom figures, "still… It's the essence that counts. Thanks."

Max starts to get up. She reasons, "no problem. This rash of robberies though sounds like something the grand Eyes Only should look into."

Devrom firmly nods, "yeah. I can be wishful for both of us."

Turning back, Max adds, "thanks. But…see you around?"

Devrom faintly smiles, "very likely."

Max slightly smiles back as she makes her way out.

She thinks to herself:

He sure as hell isn't Herbal. But, past all the whacks in the world…he seems to be on the level some way or another.

I hope though it stays that way. Moderate sigh. Cause it wouldn't be the first time we got played.

In the not so early morning, in Logan's apartment…

Logan is sitting at his computer, going over several Sector Police reports officially and covertly transferred to his database. It includes interviews with urban families, handprint identifications of possible suspects, and so on.

Max is standing over him, like she often is in the habit of doing. Logan is in a dark green T-shirt. Max is in her light blue cleavage showing sweater like shirt.

Logan contemplates out loud, "hmm. Looks like a series of robberies in state that should have been solved weeks ago."

Max says, "looks like his tip was correct. Six houses robbed. No sign of forced entry though." Logan surmises, "and with not much gang activity for the media to report on, the families are quick to blame the government."

Max reasons, "sounds like we should look into it. How is Herbal doing?"

Logan turns to her. He moderately sighs, "he's still shaken. But, you'll be interested to know that he's made arrangements for him and his girlfriend to head to California: Still working under the Eyes Only banner."

Slightly amused, Max reflects, "so after all of this…he still thinks you're the Most High. Faint chuckle. Can't say I see a downside to that."

Logan faintly smiles, "thanks. But…I can't take all the credit, Max. You helped me not crash and burn. And, not just in hero work."

Sort of sarcastically, Max comments, "well…not always. But, I try."

Logan says, "you're welcome. So, any ideas as to our mystery thieves?"

Max suggests, "just partially. Aren't all of these houses supposed to mostly be built out of scrap and crap?" Logan recalls from what he knows, "yes. But, after the Pulse, it was both the most popular and the cheapest way to build things anew. You can't tax what you can salvage from the ground up."

Max faintly smiles, "true. Still… No family friends or family seem to be tied into any of this. Might have given thieves a kind of backdoor in."

Logan deduces, "well, according to the Sector reports… There is another pattern. One that could fit your theory."

Almost challengingly, Max figures, "really?"

Logan figures, "yeah. All six houses were checked for metal decay and radiation over the past several weeks. A Sector Radiation team leaves after a house passes inspection. Money goes missing not long after."

Max comments, "nice. Least we know what to expect."

Logan concludes, "true. While we're on the subject though… You sure you feel up to this?"

With a slight shrug, Max reasons, "yeah. There's a little party down at SteelEon. Shouldn't be too far away if the pattern holds."

A little uneasily, Logan says, "ok. But, tell me something."

On impulse, Max sits up on his desk: Nearly knocking over his keyboard.

With a cat like playfulness in her eyes, Max figures, "anything. Faint chuckle. Well, mostly anything. But…you know."

Amused and nervous all at once, Logan tries to explain, "it isn't easy for me to ask. Heavy sigh. You only recently gave yourself a moral compass."

Max's cat like eyes start glaring at him in heated disbelief.

Realizing all too well what that means…Logan quickly puts it better, "I'm not saying you haven't already had one. That's not what I meant. But… Let's just say I'm a little worried about sending you back on a mission this soon."

Mostly assured, Max coolly figures, "so noted. But, this is just commerce: They don't look to be the Mafia cold murdering type." Logan implies, "and if a cold blooded murderer turns up as a hostage or a witness?"

Max looks as though she's getting a test in high school that she can see the answers for upside down on the other side of the desk: If she ever went, anyway.

After a awkward silence… She reluctantly answers, "I'd call first. But, only because I love you."

With a sympathetic hand on hers… Logan says with a faint smile, "that's all I can ask. I know it's not easy." Max mutters lowly, "tell me about it."

Logan figures, "that…and for you to be careful."

With a faint smile, Max remarks, "as much as a revved up girl can be anyway. But, thanks." Logan adds, "anytime."

Not long after, just down past central Seattle…

Sixteen days ago…a certain backstabbing hit Eyes Only hard in California.

Because of the shake up, it wasn't just Eyes Only that was hit hard: Most of the computers for the new wave of technology haven't yet gotten to their destinations. They may have been left intact in the back. But, deliveries have been delayed for weeks. And, a Eyes Only affiliated construction crew has only just completed construction of a new secret base a few days ago in California.

The technological homefront and the bigger corporate scene is off to a slower start in America due to lack of supply, while most of the independent media companies don't need as much technology to start themselves going.

In light of the success of the Digital Arcade Expo, some independent media companies are quickly showcasing semi-virtual midway parks and arcades: Based off of the same technology, and mostly supported by the same people who entered in their own arcade games for the expo.

The midway park Max is headed to is called SteelEon.

Under a big top dark blue tent, hanging spiked balls are kept from falling into the heads of guests by the superthick metal chains above. Steel suits of armor in mostly jet blue make up their own round table. And, the song If I Ruled the World by Nas and Lauryn Hill is playing over the speakers: Explicit and all.

360 degree virtual screens over booths light up with bright spiked ball wheels, rolling along with many a cloud overhead and many a cave to drive in.

Many players are wearing jet blue gauntlets and black tinted knight like safety goggles: Each driving their own spiked ball wheel with one hand on a digital steering wheel, while using the other to hurl spiked balls at other players.

Some have darker hair and jet black jackets. Some have silvery white dyed hair or jet black streaked brown hair. And, some just wear worn dark blue to light red T-shirts. Faint chuckles and groans resound through the midway.

The main multiplayer setup is taking a liberty or two with how midways usually go. There is no health meter: Only a color fading golden spiked ball at the corner to be the time counter. And, there are no kills: Only knocking over or stunning other wheels for points. So, a strong PG rating is where it falls.

Max is coming in on a Sunday morning: When even most of Seattle and the rest of the country is off from work for religious reasons.

She's not alone either: She's with Syl and Sketchy. Syl is in a light blue sleeveless dress with a light gray sleeveless undershirt underneath. Sketchy is in a light blue and yellow plaid long sleeved buttoned shirt over his white undershirt.

Kind of stunned in a good way, Sketchy says, "sure beats riding bikes."

With a slight scoff, Max says, "speak for yourself. My Ninja is never leaving me." Syl slightly chuckles, as Max walks over to a metal crate to get some gauntlets and goggles.

Sketchy and Syl stand there before some suits of armor.

Sketchy slightly shrugs, "ok: Maybe it's just me then. You sure this place is up to code though?"

With a slight chuckle, Syl insists, "come on, Sketch. I'd spot it for you if I wasn't. Besides, you worry a little too much."

Sketchy says in his defense, "no more so than a average citizen who lives in a post-pulse economy. Compared to those odds, I'm just average."

Syl looks at him a little funny. But, it just as quickly goes away.

Moving in closer to him…she faintly smiles, "doubt it. You got a nice head for negotiation…" She whispers, "…and for the bedroom."

A surprised Sketchy smiles back, "about time someone noticed me for all of me. Thanks."

He hugs Syl close. But, she just stands there smiling all the while.

Syl figures, "any time, Sketchy. Now, are we going to talk or play?"

Sounding awkward now, Sketchy realizes, "right. You're right. You're just real easy to talk to."

A little red in the face, Syl points out with a awkward grin, "umm…more like when it comes to getting down to business. But, we're more than good."

Sketchy adds, "you're welcome."

Suddenly… Max comments, "a girl wants to play on the midway. Her friends decide to get all playful without her. And, this bitch feels a little left out."

She's holding two pairs of gauntlets and two goggles under one arm. And, she's already got her gauntlets on.

Syl says a little uneasily, "sorry. But…were you standing there the whole time?" Max figures bitchily, "long enough to know you'd be rolling on the bed if there was one. But, that's your business: I just came to play."

Knowing this is kind of normal with Max, Sketchy just looks taken aback.

A slight glare comes across Syl's face.

She comments, "looks like you're still nosy as ever. All right. But, me and Sketchy are going after you. Two to one." Max says incredulously, "what?!"

A little amused by this turn on things, Sketchy says, "really?"

Syl figures with a cheeky smile, "yeah: If you want."

With some cheekiness, Sketchy reflects, "a chance to show Max a lesson? I'm in." They bump fists together, much to Max's chagrin.

Max mutters, "oh, come on! I'm just being the bitch I often am."

Syl remarks coolly, "exactly. You afraid to fall on your ass?"

Max comments back, "are you? Cause I sure am not going easy on yours."

Syl adds, "and neither are we. Let's play." Max nervously says, "fine."

She hands over their goggles and pairs of gauntlets.

Syl adds, "whatever you say, sis."

Sketchy almost can't resist laughing at Max's expense. But, he knows all too well he would regret it if he ever does. So, he's smart enough not to.

Twelve or so minutes later…

Two big golden spiked ball wheels are speeding across the desert sand. The players within are viciously hurling spiked balls at each other.

Most all the other players in their spiked ball wheels have quickly realized that getting between them is like asking to be sent flying like pinballs. But, some spiked ball wheels are gunning for them anyway: Looking for a challenge.

A particular ghostly spiked ball wheel retreats into one of the caves…even as a pair of red ringed jet black spiked ball attack drones comes right at it.

The player behind the wheel steers tightly past at the last second, letting them crash into pieces in the cave wall.

On the surface… The players in the two biggest golden spiked ball wheels are too focused on each other to notice the incoming players.

One ghostly spiked wheel gets a hit on one of them before they can break away: With a spiked ball sent in front of it making it tumble over and over.

A lot of dark gold points are seen in the sky over the one who made the hit.

But, it's short lived victory…as the ghostly spiked ball wheel from below speeds up into the air from another cave to crash right on top.

The second ghostly spiked ball wheel is buried into the desert as the land from down under collapses into a crater from the sheer impact.

The first ghostly spiked ball wheel just bounces off with a loud clink of metal, side ramming at two more surprised players who intended to double team after the remaining big golden spiked ball wheel. They both crash into each other's spiked ball wheels, rolling down into another cave.

Just as the remaining big golden spiked ball wheel speeds back around to try to hit the fallen golden spiked ball wheel some more… The player in the ghostly spiked ball wheel left hurls a pair of spiked balls in front of it: Before crashing into a sand dune with no hands on the wheel.

As the final golden slimmer of time fades… The first golden spiked ball wheel falls before the restabilizing balance of the second golden spiked ball wheel.

Back from the virtual screens…

Syl, Sketchy, and Max are all in gauntlets and goggles: With brainwave responsive fiber optics for zero time lag.

Turning to Sketchy, Max says, "damn! I was half expecting Syl to kick my ass. But, you got more game than I thought."

Their scores go up: With Max at 245, Sketchy at 450, and Syl at 315.

Looking just as surprised, Sketchy figures, "yeah. Guess I only shy away from actual physical harm on my person."

Syl adds, "still…way to go." Sketchy smiles back, "I was good. Wasn't I?"

With some held back unease, Syl adds, "yeah. I'm good at hand to hand: Just less so on a screen. Max here has always been good at telecommunications."

A little red in the face, Max thinks out loud, "well…I don't exactly go out of my way to be a pest about it. But, yeah: I have."

Sketchy looks almost dumbfounded, "wow. Suddenly, I have a whole other respect for you."

Max warns him, "so long as it's not trying to get in my pants, you can keep yourself from us playing kickball with your ass from three stories."

Sketchy clears his throat nervously, "fair point."

Faintly amused, Syl comments, "glad you know it."

Sketchy figures, "long as it doesn't involve cruel and unusual punishment, I'm here to play." Syl faintly smiles, "same here." Max adds, "good."

A few hours later…

With the gauntlets and goggles off… Max is walking past a row of mostly faint brown bricked storefronts and back alleys.

One of the stores has Prax Max in big blue chocolate bordered letters. On its front window is a flyer with a orange and red candy coated trail mix bar. It says, "Prax Max: We care to the Max!" Down below in tiny letters though, it says, "not liable for any tummy aches or risk for disease contraction found in our products."

Max's black cellular phone beeps from the left side of her mostly concealed black leather belt. She ducks into a alleyway to take the call.

Knowing exactly who's calling, Max goes, "hey."

From the other end, Logan answers, "hey. How's the new cellular phone?"

Partly sarcastic, Max reasons, "well, I'm talking to you. Aren't I?"

Logan faintly chuckles, "so how's my revved up girl?"

Max chuckles bittersweetly, "more than fine, Logan. Though, you wouldn't be calling this bitch up unless you need me to save the world and kick ass for you."

Logan confirms, "yeah. Pretty much what you said. I also care about you."

Max adds, "thanks. So, anything on our band of radiation trippin' thieves?"

Logan concludes, "yes. Got a fix on some security footage at a junkyard in Sector 3. Looks like their special van had recently started having engine trouble. But, here is where it gets weird."

With her back to a brick building… Max comments, "and here I thought I could just let the guys go at each other while I chill on the couch with some beer."

Logan faintly smiles, "if only. The preliminary report says the gas tank couplings had been shot off by a unidentified assailant with a pistol. Gas tank got disconnected and banged up shortly after, and the van had to be towed. Sounds almost too perfect." Max pieces it together easy, "like it was a inside job."

Logan reflects, "looks like. And, since it wouldn't be very smart to sabotage your own team and turn them in when no one's even asking for a reward… They're looking to rob a junkyard."

Max speculates, "you sure one of them didn't feel the need to rat them out? Just because?" Logan points out, "now that would be nice. But, no: None of them have been arrested or interrogated by Sector Police or Junkyard Security."

Max mutters, "damn. I'm not gonna get to chill much more today, am I?"

Logan says sympathetically, "sorry. But…least we all got to relax for most of the day. They'll also be a well cooked turkey from Canada for you tonight."

Max faintly chuckles, "that's true. Looking forward to dinner though." Logan adds, "me too."

Max smiles brightly to herself: Out in the darkness between two brick walls.

She says over the phone, "later." She then hangs up.

In just under a half hour, in Sector 3…

After the first weeks of the Pulse…everyone left in the country was desperate for food and shelter to sleep well enough with. Waves of illegal immigration and murderous hate turned every major city left into a ghost town.

The two biggest businesses left at the time were junkyards…and rich leaders in the modern world that could restart the whole economy with the coins in their pockets. But, salvage became a very high profiting business overnight.

Hundreds of thousands of cars were taken in and remade without electronic interfaces to safeguard against another Pulse that might have come.

Heaps of trash were melted down into scrap metal to help rebuild the country. Even warehouse like offices and cut up and stamped aluminum foil strips for money were made from scrap.

In the year 2020… Junkyards are still holding up as the center of Post-Pulse America's automobile industry, repair crews, and construction work.

With all the gang wars that have come and gone, many a house has been destroyed and rebuilt over the past decade. And, even with Eyes Only International around…gang wars are still fairly commonplace outside of Seattle.

Junkyards have been a rich target for smuggling rings and terrorists. Junkyard Security is made up of special forces in black and blue patterned military uniforms to combat such threats: Even though such threats are very few now.

Some of the most hate filled people even say they're worse than Sector Police.

They've recently escorted the dark green Sector Radiation van with its battered gas tank to get fixed up: With twenty coal black freight cranes to lift and unload a entire circle of hooked in metal lifts with car frames, car parts, and whole government issue cars for junkyard mechanics in gray to work on.

That hasn't stopped Junkyard Security from bringing in the Sector Radiation team in gold colored Sector Police styled uniforms and hazmat helmets for questioning. But…what they didn't realize was that they counted on it.

They're being escorted onto a lift without a hook, lowering down into a military bunker. HK416 14.5 inch barrel assault rifles are in the Sector Radiation team's backs…ready to shoot their spines out into human fossils if they so much as breathe wrong.

With a rifle in the team leader's back, a Junkyard Security officer mutters harshly, "we're just going to ask you a nice set of questions. Government procedure and all that. Try anything, and you'll be dead before…"

Then…a explosion goes off.

The battered tank with its several cracks explodes off: With slipped in matches striking the inside as the tank is swerved around.

The lift crashes down on top of the elevator control box stationed outside…as several mechanics run screaming with their clothes on fire. The bodies of two Junkyard Security officers are crushed to death instantly.

A layer of emergency foam releases from metal trapdoors to put out the fire.

All the other mechanics run down the circle of metal stairs, screaming.

Junkyard Security begrudgingly escorts them away, leaving a handful of officers behind in the chaos. But, that's the least of their troubles.

The underground lift abruptly stops, setting off security's balance.

The Sector Radiation team use the Junkyard Security officers's own body weight against them to knock them off completely: Letting them get knocked out against solid earth, even with their guns blazing.

One of them clutches her arm as dark red liquid starts coming down from it.

In a husky like voice, the leader checks, "you still with us?"

The second Sector Radiation team imposter firmly nods.

The leader picks up a fallen construction work styled emergency remote control from one of the Junkyard Security officers, and uses it to resume their descent down. He reminds them, "we only get six minutes. Get ready to move."

The rest of the four of them take a moment to pick up the fallen assault rifles: Knowing more security could be down there waiting for them.

Back up on the surface… One of the officers has interestingly slipped out of sight of the other officers, and into the foam.

In a Junkyard Security uniform and matching hat, a devilishly smiling Max is swimming through the foam for the left open underground lift's shaft.

In a quick memory flash, not at all long ago…

In her catsuit from under her clothes… Max flip jumps her way into a rusty dark red security booth: Just as some car parts are being escorted in by truck.

She takes out both guards in midair just before landing on her feet.

Max slightly laughs, "almost like you're not even trying to shoot first and then ask." She starts putting on one of their uniforms before anyone else can see.

Presently, down under…

A ring of metal walkways circles over a pit of boiling hot liquid metal, with thin metal rods for its only supports and red emergency lights. A metal walkway in the back leads to a big centralized metal lift. It's the control room: With several Junkyard Security officers, four control terminals covered in yellow and black striped tape, and a bulletproof metal vault in the center with millions of dollars.

The leader of the Sector Radiation team imposters has taken off his hazmat helmet and stuffed a security officer's grenade into it. He's a gang leader: With medium blackish brown hair and a jet black jackhammer tattoo across his cheek.

The leader hurls the helmet out as Junkyard Security tries to open fire. The bullets tear the helmet apart…as the grenade turns into a flare of brilliant light.

Junkyard Security shields their eyes. And, the gang of imposters run down the metal walkways: Taking advantage of the extra seconds.

They both start shooting. But, the metal supports are the only things being shot down left and right: Falling into the boiling hot liquid metal.

In the midst of it all though…Max comes swinging in on a cable from her crossbow: Timed well enough in mid-fall to swing right at Junkyard Security.

Max kicks one violently into another, taking both out in a daze into a control terminal. She tumble lands on her feet: Her army hat falling off without a care.

She calls out tauntingly, "guess you're the midway attraction now! Can you be any more pathetic?"

The gang leader motions his team to stop firing. They do.

Readying his rifle, one of the Junkyard Security officers mutters, "I don't know who in God's name you are. But, you just made your last mistake."

Max high side kicks him off the lift…and into the pit of liquid metal.

He screams as his body starts boiling from the inside out.

Eerily calm, she challenges, "you were saying?"

Just before the two left could decide though…Max just punches one and kicks the other out at the same time. Their bodies land hard onto the lift.

From the back catwalk… The leader figures, "nice moves. Take it you heard about our heist here somehow." Max slightly chuckles, "seems like."

The leader offers, "would be nice if you helped us out of here. How does a five way split sound?"

Max fast walks over to the gang: Knocking the wind out of them all with their rifles shoved into their sides. They groan violently in sharply shaken nerves.

Sympathetically, she faintly sighs, "too bad I'm not as desperate for cash."

Late that night…

Max is sitting up on the Space Needle, looking out to the streets below. And, all of a sudden…she finds herself teary eyed.

She's thinking to herself:

I finished the mission. But…I haven't told Logan about the guy I killed.

I could have killed all the security bastards right there. But, I didn't for some reason. Only…I know the reason. I thought of what Logan would think.

Take away the ass kicking, and what am I?

Just "this bitch" deluding myself on having friends I can kick it with until I kick them all away? Is there even such a thing as being too much of a bitch?

Sniffle! Deep breath. Faint sigh.

I hope not. But…maybe it's time I should give a damn.

The last thing I want is to be just "this bitch" in a broken world: Even though I would never admit it to anyone.

I can put myself out there and get through one bitch after another as best as I know how. I just hope it's more than enough to keep the friends I got.


	8. Episode 8: Firez to the Sky

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 8:

Over the course of seven days, Kicking it Midway to One Gen to Another…

Sitting opposite Logan…was a woman in her late thirties: In a light red woven sweater like dress, and with long curly black hair past the waistline.

In a matter of fact way… Logan introduced her, "Max…I'd like you to meet Anin: Your long lost mother."

Max was lying on the couch in her jet black jacket: Deep in thought, and looking sick to her stomach. With the images of all her friends running through her mind… Past and present… she was thinking over and over:

Take away the ass kicking, and what am I? Just "this bitch" deluding myself on having friends I can kick it with until I kick them all away?

Logan implied, "there's someone who flew in from Canada who needs our help." Max sat up, turning to face him fully. She figured, "twice in one day?"

Logan revealed, "why don't you ask her yourself?"

Not far behind him was a fairly worried looking woman in her early thirties: With shoulder length dark red hair, dark blue jeans, a bluish black cleavage showing top with sleeves, and reading glasses in her pocket.

Drawn out and yet assertive sounding…she kind of awkwardly said, "hey."

Max walked up to her. She said back, "hey."

The woman checked, "you all right? You sound a little distant."

In mixed uncertainty, Max insisted, "I'm fine. What do you need, miss…?"

The woman offered her hand in courtesy, "Fairchild. Caitlin Fairchild."

With a heavy sigh… Logan concluded, "I don't think it's you, Miss Janel. She wouldn't admit this to anyone. But…she's been mostly keeping to herself for the past several days: Even from her best friend."

Caitlin faintly chuckled awkwardly, "umm…not to be rude or anything. But, haven't you heard of sarcasm? You certainly seemed to be fairly fluent in it." In hard hitting realization… Max went, "oh, god. Maybe I am going in circles."

Both relieved and not…Logan pointed out, "ohh. But, that's just what I don't get, Max. Your friends are your friends because they accept you for who you are: Bitchiness and all. I don't usually swear like that. But…the point is there." Teary eyed…Max uneasily reflected, "it wasn't just that: It was…worrying that the heart of darkness was going to overtake me if I didn't tone down the bitch that is me."

Max faintly smiled, "we really are pathetic, aren't we?"

Logan commented with a faint smile, "hopeless."

Max said, "I love you." Logan added, "me too."

And soon, they were making out at the window: Throwing their cares away.

Three nights later…

In the darkness…a silvery warehouse stands before a wide metal fence.

Very little stars are out. But, the moon is shining three quarters of the way.

In the warehouse…are a set of carnival like mirrors in colorful red and blue.

Candles of wax are everywhere.

Devrom and Max are in their jet black jackets: In combative stances.

Max is in a sweaty dark brown top.

Devrom has blue and silvery liquid metal enforced biker gloves, and a silvery Kamen Rider Henshin belt that almost looks like a strap on Wii U.

Max with her jet black gloves punches at him, only for him to block with both of his metal enforced gloves in a cupped fist.

A little out of breath… Devrom firmly nods, "nice focus."

They both side tumble away.

With a boyish grin, Max comments uneasily, "Dev man, you have no idea."

Nervously, Devrom gets up. He figures, "o…k. What's with you?"

Max heavily sighs. She's hot and flushed…and she knows all too well why.

A little out of breath… She pushes back, "can we just get our fighting on?"

Devrom gathers, "sorry. Didn't mean to…"

Max uncomfortably admits, "part of being a super trooper with me. You didn't do anything." Devrom questions coolly, "then…what?"

Max flip jumps at Devrom. He in turn does a Rider Kick: Complete with a kind of high tumble flip in midair and kicking Max away.

She crash lands into a wooden crate filled with bubble wrap.

Only slightly beat up… Max shakes off the impact fairly easy.

She reasons firmly, "you really don't want to know."

Devrom offers his hand. Max takes it, pulling herself out of the crate.

She adds, "thanks." Devrom figures, "don't mention it."

They're both standing there, not far from the mirrors.

Devrom kind of quickly changes the conversation, "maybe. But, we all got painful memories to face." Max faintly smiles, "damn straight."

She wonders curiously, "what about you? Care to tell me yours, Obi-Wan?"

Devrom reflects kind of lightly, "faint chuckle. Not really. Point made."

A little awkward like… Max says, "yeah. Someone had to make it."

Max's cellular phone beeps from her belt.

She suddenly realizes, "sorry. Got to blaze." She starts to head back out.

Devrom insists coolly, "no problem. Watch out for mirror monsters, ok?"

Max pauses. And, she turns back to him. With some faint amusement, she comments, "not the kind of words I'd go with. But, I'll keep a eye out."

Devrom highlights, "they're not just monsters: They're in all of us."

Max faintly smiles, "like a inner bitch. Thanks."

Devrom adds, "don't mention it."

Max heads out: Going for her Ninja out back and taking off soon after.

Max speeds down a alley, and onto the highway. She almost crashes into a car. But, she jumps her Ninja over the hood of the honking car.

Irritated looking, Max continues down the road.

She takes the call with her free hand, "yeah?"

From the other end, in a blue long sleeved shirt… Logan checks, "you ok?"

Max shoots back, "I'm in heat and trying to get my mind off of jumping someone's bones. What do you think?!"

Logan awkwardly implies, "well…maybe a mission will help. Could be a lot of running around from what I hear." Max faintly smiles, "thanks. Sexy body of intellect."

Both amused and not all at once, Logan asks, "did you just call me sexy?"

Looking a little red, Max says, "oh god. Just give this bitch the bitch to run through before I get more bent."

Logan reasons, "sure. But, I think it's better if you talk to Krit yourself: Even with you not exactly..." Max adds quickly, "I get it. I'll call you."

She hangs up and then dials a number. She parks a bit a ways off road first.

Krit picks up, "hey. I got that you're in heat. But…I wouldn't be calling if it wasn't important." He's at a pale white desk, and he's got a Canadian Security Intelligence Service badge in his dark grey jacket pocket.

Max faintly smiles, "to the point as always. What is it?"

Krit reveals bluntly, "the CSIS is letting people in a experimental city kill each other rather than come in to help."

Snapping back to real, Max questions, "really? Did you just say…?" Krit confirms, "experimental. It's a long report that they quietly buried. But, yes."

With a deep sigh, Max solemnly says, "go ahead."

In just a few hours, over in Canada…

By day, everything is in serenity: In the public eye, anyway.

There are summer getaway cabins and grassy plains with wildlife preserves for miles. But, there is no wild anymore. No lumberjacks or construction workers.

The cities are mostly extremely well paid.

Low level silvery and coal black A.I. construction machines run construction and repair like droids in Star Wars. Coolant, salt, and planes are plenty: Even to the extent of controlling the weather over the country for very wealthy contractors.

Spiraling highways, super thin and super wide skyscrapers with parking garages, and coal black factories make up every city block.

Marvel, Disney, Dreamworks, and even Image are the mega corporate powers at play. Politicians have become advisers to them and their billboards just to stay in office. For, the real power of the country is in corporate hands.

Image is under a corporation out of the blue called WalkerBros: With a walkman on water for a logo, and two very manipulative men called the Walker Brothers in office.

Most everyone that is anyone is famous or friends with them. The paparazzi have died in popularity, and the tabloids are second hand. Bodyguards have essentially become the police, leaving plenty more room for military officers.

But, even now…some towns have slipped through the cracks for funding.

The town of Cherlinon is such a place.

The ramjet is parked on a not very far rocky hill before a very windy thunderstorm. For, the weather in the dark of night can never truly be tamed.

Max along with a recently made official Eyes Only agent are fighting through the storm in jackets, past wrecked and rusted in factories and blackened cars. They hold onto the bizarrely brown semi-melted sulfur smelling rubbery substance making up the walls for support against the wind, and keep on going.

Her name is Charim Dharn: A medium curly black haired Japanese woman scientist with a kind of ghostly transparent skin. Like supernaturally so.

She wears a light blue overcoat over a white formal buttoned shirt. Yet, she keeps going with no sign of fatigue or wetted down hair.

Over the wind… Charim Dharn calls out uneasily, "how…much further?"

Max slightly turns to her all stoic like. She starts to say, "I have no…"

In spite of the fierce wind and rain…a gray automatic door opens.

In a green rocket fuel trails and stars styled black jacket, a thick brown bearded and mustached guy with a hood up is there. His name is Dike.

With a spaced out tone, he says real low, "hey! Want to come in?"

Charim Dharn is shivering some under her overcoat.

She reasons fairly, "I would. But...what do you think?"

Almost defeatedly, Max faintly smiles, "chilling in a little couldn't hurt."

Dike suggests, "got plenty of heat to go around."

He hiccups: Almost off balance too. But, the automatic door is quicker.

The automatic door closes behind the three of them as they come in.

It turns out to be a hospital, plastered in the rubbery stuff. But, the only way one can tell out in the cold is Cherlinon Hospital in semi-melted big red letters.

Inside, just a little under a hour later…

The halls are whitish gray. The ceiling is covered in melted cobwebs.

The white sheeted kind of moldy beds are plentiful, and with plenty of shipped in crates for groceries, bed sheets, and "more inviting" pointy plastic wrap.

The checkout area has been turned into living space, where piles of trash wrapped in bed sheets are ready to be put in the morning fire. Max and Charim are here: With two moose fur waiting chairs pulled up before the stone cobbled fireplace.

Charim is stretching her hands out over the fire to keep warm. And, Max is in a sky blue top: Just glancing out to the storm through the window, while two medium blond haired bodyguards in black are playing Gridiron Master at a small wood table and now and then reaching for Poutine.

A third bodyguard mutters, "hey! We already rolled, genius."

Almost begrudgingly, a second one comments, "yeah, yeah." The other two just laugh at him as he reaches for some more Poutine before moving a rook piece.

Dike is in his room: With plenty of red worn out balloons...and direct-to-dvd porn scattered on the messy booze stained blue floor titles.

He now doesn't have a hood up, and is seen to have short brown messy hair.

And, with him in the room…are two dolled up prostitutes with long candy apple red dyed hair and sporty boobs: In white stick decorated white full body straps over their mostly naked bodies, and kissing and "outer rimming" all over his green candy sugar dyed nakedness. Moans of pleasure echo about his bed.

Charim looks very off put by the sound.

She says uncomfortably, "leaving well enough alone might be best. But… I wouldn't be thinking about it much if they were quieter."

Max voices simply, "same." She doesn't even turn around.

Charim sums up, "if that's how we feel…why don't we just find a better place to stay the night? There's got to be more than one place to go." Max faintly smiles, "tempting. Got a feeling though there's more to this than being spaced ass drunk and kicking it in his man fort. I think we should stay. Check out his story."

Charim feels a little sweaty and burnt.

She moves her arms away, letting them relax by her sides. But, as quickly as the burns appeared on her hands…they're slowly fading like a slow motion medical video.

Charim reasons nervously, "well…if you say so. You've been out on missions longer. What's your story though?"

Max insists firmly, "sorry. But, it's better you don't know."

Flashes of her shakily taking her meds, almost ending up in bed with Eric, impulsively ending up in bed with Rafer, and escaping Manticore cycle within her.

Charim concludes, "maybe it would help though. Telling someone, I mean."

Max coldly mutters, "maybe. But, that's my business: Not yours."

Charim comments hotly, "fine. Be that way! I just wanted to help."

Max sighs uneasily. And, she turns to her.

With a hint of sadness… She admits solemnly, "I know: I saw your file."

Charim sharply whispers, "what?!"

Max states upfront, "yeah. I'm a nosy bitch. Can you just get over it enough for us to get through this bitch?"

Charim mutters coldly, "and I thought you couldn't have more issues."

Max shoots back, "well, not all of us can sign on to be experiments."

Several months ago, all the way into Japan…

Charim was in a white lab coat, running down a flameproof plastic wrapped corridor with grill like metal doors. And chasing her…were ten mostly very dark blue cybernetic gear and claw like jointed humanoid robots with little red lights all over. They're collectively called A.N.N.A: Short for Active Non-Negotiable Assassin units.

They echoed robotically, "surrender or die. Surrender or die."

Charim swiped a dark blue credit card into a card holder at one of the doors.

But, it didn't unlock.

She threw the card away in a fit of tears. She kept running.

The A.N.N.A. units launched their flamethrowers at her. But, it only was catching on her lab coat: Which she bitterly ripped off.

Down to her green bra… Charim turned into a winding plastic wrapped corridor: With flame trails left behind. A.N.N.A. units just walked onward: Targeting for her.

Charim tried to get to a metal pipe styled elevator. But…on the elevator… Another A.N.N.A. unit was coming for her.

She gasped in fear.

She tumbled over her own legs…as several missiles took out a huge chunk of wall.

The momentum sent her slide crashing through a skyscraper window…and down into the coastal waters as a heavily scraped mostly humanoid water drop.

Presently…

Charim bitterly points out, "actually…I tested my biochemical therapy on myself when Kasoku Kikan Hoshi wouldn't let me test it on computer. If I didn't know then what I know now…I would have turned it into a universal inoculation therapy for them. I swam all the way to America, and the rest is kind of history."

Max faintly smiles. She highlights, "so you're your own girl power experiment hoping to spread it all around. Guess you're not so bad."

Charim faintly smiles back, "thanks. Maybe you're not so bad yourself."

Max adds, "thanks. Now, are we gonna to just chill and do nothing…or are we gonna check this story out?" She starts getting up.

Charim mumbles, "ok, ok. Watashi wa yo hayaku mou!"

Max faintly chuckles. And, she starts her way down the hall.

A short while after…

Max opens a white door into a little corridor: Plastered in medical plastic wrap, and covered in wood pieces. Several charred corpses are briefly seen: With thin melted surgeon mask straps that Max notices with her cat like eyes.

Very disgusted by the sight… Max is quick to pick the lock on the next door with a knife: Only to find it easily break into a pile of melted wood ooze.

She mutters, "damn." She finds a operating room behind it: With a melted in vent, melted in plastic, puddles of reeking charcoal, and melted everything else.

Teary eyed…Max thinks to herself, "and just when I thought I couldn't possibly get sick to my stomach. What the hell happened here?"

Charim whispers, "Max?" Max solemnly figures, "yeah?"

Close to tears herself…Charim mutters, "what the…?"

Max faintly mutters, "exactly what I'm asking myself."

Charim faintly suggests, "well…maybe this will help get us some answers."

She is holding up a yellowish red dvd glass case: With a dvd markered in black "You Want Rubbergolin? You Can't Handle the Burn!"

Ten minutes after…

Charim and Max have found a gray 90's styled monitoring computer to play the dvd: With some rewiring to a silver rimmed black DVD player, thanks to Max.

Meanwhile, Dike is taking a shower. The bodyguards are getting ready for sleep in their very tidy rooms between shifts. And, the prostitutes have left.

Max says, "okay. It's set." Charim firmly nods, "good."

She goes ahead and puts the DVD in.

The black screen changes to a partially static filled screen of madness.

Onscreen… Someone is holding up a unseen camera, running from a exploding melting over brown rubber substance fortified house.

A gas cloud of sulfur overtakes the burning screaming Canadian military in black.

And yet, there's heavy rain in the sky: Like it was paid to happen.

Dike yells on high, "hell yes! Can't handle the burn! Can't handle the burn!" The first bodyguard from earlier says, "Dike, you're drunk. We need to get to a safe…!"

The house completely bursts into flaming sulfur smelling goo. Flames to the sky quickly turn the dwindling gas cloud into a acidic clash of storms.

The water thins it out all right. But, not before hundreds coming home from work are overpowered by the sulfur: In and out of vented semi-melted homes.

Quick forming boils out of thin air slowly kill them in their screams.

Half burned teenagers and college students are running in a panic for the nearest unattended buses and underground levels. Some ride the buses through the center of town: Crashing violently into each other as sulfur overtakes them.

Max stops the DVD. She looks wide eyed, "oh, god."

Charim is just in shock: Mumbling to herself in Japanese.

Close to tears… Max realizes, "a experimental town. Dike turned it into a Butyl rubber and industrial plastine paint job bomb waiting to go off."

Charim mutters shakily, "the Rubbergolin. Super flexible for shock absorbers... Jigoku no yōna for burning up." Max solemnly adds, "yeah."

Charim looks kind of confused, "wait. If you knew it's experimental…how did you not know about the Rubbergolin?" Max stretches it a little, "I didn't. Our agent inside the CSIS didn't either: Only a intelligence report saying the Canadian military were going to storm Dike Grovly's house in a experimental town by 1500. Figured they destroyed the rest of the reports around Cherlinon out of not giving a damn."

Down the hall, the shower water seems to stop.

Charim sharply mutters, "Kuso ̄ . So, what do we do now?"

Max grimly gathers, "what we should do before deciding how much of a bastard or a drunk he really is: More recon."

Ten minutes or so after…

Max thinks to herself, "I hate this plan. But…to figure this all out before Spacely's robots from hell catch us… We don't have much of a choice. They survived a gas plague with nothing on their asses. And, even if I can take them out easy with girl power… Deep sigh. Charim has just recently become a agent. She would be shot easy: With or without this bitch trying to stop them cold."

Dike is walking into his room, drying off with some white hotel bought towels. He mumbles uneasily, "oh, hell. I'm starting to feel like…"

Max is standing in the doorway: Back in her catsuit, holding up one of his dark green bottles of imported alcohol, and looking like she's aching for a bang. She seductively mumbles, "…like getting high again?"

Dike faintly laughs, "only if you're entertaining. Hic!"

Soon enough… Dike and her are on his green sugar covered sheets: Making out with Max forcefully but firmly on top of him.

But, before she impulsively goes for a bang… The big picture hits like fire.

And, in that sickly moment of clarity… Even with Dike's moans of pleasure hitting like poisoned daggers… Max rams her knee hard into his chest.

He bends over: Throwing up green vomit over the bed before passing out.

Max quickly gets up, looking sick herself.

She mutters to herself, "thank god for parallel processing. Don't get up."

She pushes his body over the right side of the bed, and then leaves some gross green stained bed covers over him to look as though he was just sleeping.

Max is glaring into the white little sink nearby while she spits out saliva.

Soon, she's washing her hands: Even as she can hear footsteps. And, she's thinking to herself, "damn. When this is all over, I need to shower. Actually… Make that two showers and a good hot bath. I hate this bitch so much right now."

Not long after…

Two of the bodyguards come with mostly gray shotguns to check Dike's room. All the while, Max and Charim are sneaking down to the lower level.

In the dark, a awkward silence sits.

Charim moves her black flashlight forward. The light hits a cobweb encased door, much to her unease. Black spiders seem to be dancing in taunting circles.

Charim mutters under her breath, "now what?"

Max just takes out her knife and slashes the middle webs away.

She presumes, "we knock."

Blurs of light shine by Max's cat like eyes.

Her gloved hand opens the door.

The shadows walk alongside the two of them, down a white tiled corridor.

There's very few cobwebs...and a lot of smelly greenish bug repellent stains.

Blurs of light and blurry green whiz by, as the shadows make their way from kicked open door to kicked open door.

Then… They find the very dark infirmary.

Cabinets of painkillers and ice packs are mostly cleaned out. And lying on the thin white sheeted stretcher on wheels…is a figure with long very dark red hair, deep red burns across her face and chest, breathing straws out of her burned neck, a constant state of teariness, and a white medical gown. She groans weakly, "is…someone there?"

Seventeen minutes after…

By her bedside… Charim checks nervously, "you sure you are okay?"

The woman in bed is Misorika: A Ukrainian immigrant with quite a story to tell.

Misorika mumbles faintly, "wish so. But…violent groan…I make do. Thankful water runs still. After long while though…ice packs not help. Too cold."

Charim tries to put a brave face in front of her. But, she's very teary eyed.

From a back corner of the infirmary… Max is looking through Misorika's diary with a aged kind of moldy yellow leather cover. It's certainly seen better.

With a weak smile… Max looks up towards her, "I feel you." Kind of confused, Misorika voices, "I not sure what you mean. But…thank you."

Max insists, "you can thank us later. We're not out yet. But, we will get you out." With a faint smile, Misorika says, "I…violent cough…thankful still."

Charim tries to delicately say, "Max…maybe we should wait."

Max asks blatantly, "for what exactly?"

Charim looks stunned.

After collecting herself a bit… She points out nervously, "well…to ask her questions. We could get some sleep. All of us could." Almost disturbingly, Max calmly concludes, "so noted. You honestly think sleep is going to help her much though?"

A awkward silence follows.

Max reasons, "that's what I thought."

Charim mutters coldly, "it doesn't mean I have to like it." Max adds, "yeah."

Charim faintly sighs, "I'll go watch the door." Max solemnly nods, "ok."

Without another word, Charim goes to keep watch outside the door.

Max turns back to Misorika.

Trying to sound cool and calm about it… She continues, "you say you were a factory worker for the Rubbergolin?"

Spaced out sounding, Misorika checks, "in the book?" Max confirms, "yes."

Taking heavy breaths in between… Misorika tells her her story, "violent groan! I not forget. No electric. No clean at…violent cough…all. Got burned on equipment. But, good husband bring me here right away. Surgeon called away…and gone. Months gone…violent cough…and I start thinking I only one."

A tear falls from Max's face. But, she ignores it.

She sadly admits, "I'm not sure I know either. If he's out there though, we'll be sure to find him." Misorika nervously adds, "okay."

Max thinks out loud, "I should let you rest. Just tell me something."

Misorika mumbles, "I…violent cough…can try. What is it?"

Delicate sounding, Max inquires, "do you know who ran the factory?"

Misorika recalls faintly, "not close enough to see face to face. Just his name. Violent cough! Dike Grovly."

Max sighs deeply. She thinks to herself, "yeah. This night just very much sucks."

With the coming dawn of another day…

The sheets from last night have already been burned over the fire.

Two bodyguards are still awake: Shotguns ready. Most everyone else is asleep.

Then…there's a sudden drop in temperature.

The third bodyguard mutters irritatedly, "damn cheapskate. You go check it out: See if the thermostat needs reworking again."

The other bodyguard nods. He heads over to the checkout desk.

But, when he gets there…he sees it's not just the mostly gray thermostat. The gray flatscreen computer at the desk is off, and so are the lights over the waiting area.

In a few memory flashes, from not very long ago…

Misorika is lying in bed: Drinking down water from many plastic cups she keeps around, and eating from almost completely gone grayish emergency rations.

Max tells Charim, "get Misorika out of here. I'll take care of the men with the guns." Charim argues, "but what if they see us? If even one of them shoots Misorika…!"

Not far from the door…there's a untouched red box circuit breaker.

With a faint smile… Max pinpoints, "not if they can't see you."

Presently, up a level…

Max's voice breaks the cold silence, "this is the part where you fall on your ass."

From up a open vent above, Max swings out.

The bodyguard shoots into the dark. But, Max has cat like vision on her side.

She land kicks into him, taking him out over the desk with a great thud.

The second bodyguard hurries over to the waiting area.

He calls out, "whoever you are, you're dead meat son!"

As the last bodyguard is slowly getting up… A downward cable with a knife on the end goes shooting out across the hall.

It hits him right in the leg under the sheet. And, he's wincing in sharp pain.

Max comments offhandedly, "wow. Should get your vision checked out if you think I'm a son of anybody."

She slides down the cable, kicking at the bodyguard. But, he shoots first.

Max reactively spins out of the way of the bullet in mid-air. But, the bodyguard swings his shotgun into her like a bat.

Max groans violently on the floor: Clutching her heavily bruised side.

She mutters under her breath, "something about be careful what you wish for."

The bodyguard faintly laughs, "one of the girls from last night. Don't worry your sorrowful head: You won't feel another thing."

As he goes to fire though…Max hurls her other knife into his chest.

A faint trail of dark red liquid flies out, as the bodyguard falls over dead.

The shot from the shotgun hits one of the doors instead.

Max gets up. She's crouched over and still shaking. But, she's alive.

The first bodyguard is still wincing in pain between consciousness and unconsciousness…when Max goes into Dike's room to drag his sleeping body out the door in his newer bed sheets. His bed sheets have been turned into a human sack.

It doesn't take long for Max to grab her crossbow and other knife on the way out.

When she gets out… The sun is out. The clouds have parted: However briefly.

And, Max is thinking to herself, "now…what to do with…you?"

Some murmurs interrupt her thought.

Two school buses decked out with taped on shotguns and spray paint full of former college students with ragged clothes and war paint are in the middle of town. One is mostly dark red, and one is mostly light blue with hail like spots.

It looked like they were gearing up for war. But, some of them have come out of the buses: Quick to spot Max, and very uncertain what to make of her.

There is no surprise: Only caution and fear.

With a pistol in hand… A guy with medium brownish black hair presses, "we don't have time for a interrogation. Our rations are on the line. What is your mission?"

Finally coming to a decision… Max faintly chuckles, "hey. I'm not taking sides. Besides… There's plenty of green in food back there. Enough for both sides."

A guy with crew cut brown hair checks, "how are we sure of that?"

Max disturbingly suggests, "cause here's the guy that is just aching for a sentence."

She opens up the sheets…letting out a slowly coming to Dike in his naked stupor.

Both sides look at him wide eyed.

Most every one of them realizes, "Dike Grovly."

Max lets the sheets go and just keeps walking for the ramjet: Not even looking back. And with her back turned, Max comments half sarcastically, "you're welcome."

Some time later…

High in the mostly clear blue skies… The ramjet is on its way back to Seattle.

Misorika is sleeping as soundly as she can be, in her strapped in bed in the back.

Max is piloting. But, she's very quiet. And, it's not hard to guess why.

Still… Charim just has to ask, "what's wrong, Max? We got her out, and helped a lot of people while doing it." Close to tears, Max mutters bitterly, "living with myself."

Charim solemnly reflects, "maybe. But, you did it anyway: Even when you were about to break. Something tells me you've been through worse."

Max is thinking back to the last time she was in heat…and to the kids in Romania.

Max faintly chuckles, "not exactly. But, thanks." Charim faintly smiles, "yeah."

In the late morning, up in Logan's apartment…

Logan is crouched down in a corner, taking some measurements with yellow measuring tape for something.

In a army blue jacket over black… Sydney suddenly asks, "am I interrupting?"

A little taken aback, Logan insists, "uh…no. No. Not at all."

He goes over to his drawer and puts away the measuring tape.

He stands there, back to the desk. He asks uncertainly, "why you ask?"

Sydney looks very nervous. She just says, "you better take a look for yourself."

She hands Logan a yellow envelope. And, he opens it.

He opens it to find pictures of a crime scene. And, as he looks through them…all the color fades from his face.

In the pictures… Indian yellow police tape is over the dead body of a recently made official Eyes Only agent. Only black dress like pants are shown of him.

And, in the dirt…this is written in blood and motor oil:

Interfere in our efforts again, and Toni Cale is dead.

Zìrú For All. -ZFA


	9. Episode 9: Nightmare on Jesus St, Pt 1

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 9:

Why is this night in the United States different from all other nights?

There may be a cold chill to the air. But, that's not it.

It's December, and one would normally expect snow.

With the smog out there as a dim reminder of the Pulse…year after year has gone by without snow. But, even this has not stopped the snow this year.

Commercialism is coming back to the good old US of A. And, weather planes of silvery red and white from Canada have been coming for months to gradually part the smog for this special time of year: Paid for and everything thanks to Eyes Only International, when it was really getting off the ground.

For, it's Christmas Eve. And, the people all bundled up on the cold streets of the United States welcome the snow with open arms of pure shock and joy.

The new wave of technology is in high gear. And, just about every computer has come to town: From the remodeled warehouse to the freshly painted corporate office.

They all come in a very bundled but cared for line of packages.

They look like gift wrapped presents: With themes from ducks in the water to space pirates on ice. But, with the flip of a silvery moon switch, the silvery rimmed touchscreen flatscreen slides up up top and the mostly black keyboard slides out the front.

Apps are limited thus far, and chatting is only in chatrooms. But, for just 10 bucks already paid for for the boxed computers, the sales are skyrocketing already.

And, as icing on a much deserved cake…there is no work for the holidays.

With all the joy around, companies small and large have let it go this year.

Though, even with all the holiday cheer in the air…there's a nightmare breaking through the winter breeze: Right down on Jesus Street.

On this holy night, down in California…

On the top floor of a dome like complex… There's a dark red sheeted bedroom with dark green curtains: With a marble white ring around black nightclub theme going on, with dance poles along the neon sign walls lit with dark blue.

Christmas decorations of green and red bows go all along the room.

Between some of the poles is a window of eight neatly thin glass panes, looking out to a little tower of sorts that could be well mistaken for a billboard.

Its mostly blue neon sign is from as far back as 1995. It says:

Seymo_r's, Eat More, Sleep More, Play More.

The concrete roofs before it with a small ladder before the lower one have come all the way back from 1995: Fully retouched and restored like a work of art.

The silvery rimmed mostly brown recliner is there. The silvery telephone booth is there too. And out here, sitting in the recliner…is Sydney in a jet black winter coat and matching gloves: Drinking from a clear thermos of egg cream.

In a dark red comfy chair across from her, there's Sydney's sister Samantha: Typing stuff on a red open suitcase computer like Sydney's. She has kind of short curly brownish blond hair, and a black velvet winter coat and gloves.

With a kind of cheeky smile on her face… Samantha looks up.

She figures, "I got one for you. And, you can't use VR as a answer."

Sydney faintly smiles nervously, "go ahead. I'm ready."

Samantha challenges, "if Santa Claus and his workshop are on the North Pole, how does he stay above water?" Sydney says, "ouch."

Samantha nudges sarcastically, "should I withdraw that restriction?"

Sydney faintly chuckles, "thanks. But, no. I'll get it."

She takes a sip from her egg cream.

She then questions, "where is Duncan, anyway? He'd love to be up here."

Samantha uneasily comments, "you know how he is with his crazy theories. Sometimes, he says he can see the Tree of Life with prison cells growing on it."

Sydney faintly chuckles, "you don't say." Samantha uneasily chuckles.

As she goes back to typing for a bit… She reflects, "ever since the Pulse… He keeps finding new ways to drive me crazy. But, I love him anyway."

Sydney smiles back, "I know."

Samantha steers things back around, "so…about the brain game we're on?"

Sydney figures, "well… Maybe there's docks behind the polar ice caps. And, the ice is mostly just for show to keep unwanted guests off the property."

Samantha chuckles hard at that one. She then catches her breath.

She comments, "only you, Sydney, could think of a stage in the North Pole."

Sydney faintly smiles, "thanks. So…anything on those smugglers?"

Samantha faintly sighs in reflection, "a crap full. Come look for yourself."

A little shaken by this, Sydney adds, "ok. What's…?"

She seals the thermos back up.

She moves over to Samantha's computer to look. And then…it all starts to hit her.

Red lined blue dotted 3D models of electronics stolen and not come up.

They suddenly all come apart in a put together video file. And, the parts fly into one 3D model that resembles a set of mostly reassembled dark blue computer banks: With the mostly dark brown toy box like logo "SyBox" across them.

Sydney realizes, "ohh." In a pained voice, Samantha mutters, "yeah."

Sydney starts getting up.

She checks like it's a trick question, "should I get Duncan?"

Sydney starts heading back for the house, down the little ladder and all.

Samantha nervously concludes, "yeah. You should. Be back in time for carols?"

Sydney pauses. She faintly smiles, "for you and Duncan? No sweat."

Samantha faintly nods, "I've still got a turkey to make. But, be careful out there."

Sydney mostly assures her, "we will." Samantha adds, "ok."

Sydney goes on back inside.

Meanwhile, in Logan's apartment…

Most of the place is in Christmas decorations of green. Some mistletoe hangs over the window. A Christmas tree still in its pot is out in the living room area with lights and bells aplenty. And, four by four candles make a fireplace all their own in the back.

Past the window looking out is a corner. And from that certain corner…comes the sound of rushing water. But, it's nothing to fear.

For, in that corner…is Max lying all relaxed in a black Jacuzzi with yellow Xs around its rim: Water jets blazing around her naked body, and steam aplenty.

Her dark red and dark blue bathrobes are folded neatly, just outside the Jacuzzi for her. Even some of the Chinese screens have been moved around to give her privacy.

From the other side of the screens… Logan wonders, "so…what do you think of your early Christmas present? I know you're not exactly religious. But…you know."

Smiling brightly… Max remarks, "for someone who makes it hard on himself to chill, you sure know how to please a girl. But…thanks. This is straight up awesome."

In a dark red long sleeved shirt… Logan faintly adds, "I'm flattered."

He's looking out to the window now: Thinking back to the message in blood. And, a chill runs right through him.

Max stops the water jets: Letting the water bubbles settle down.

She sighs uneasily, "ok. What's wrong?"

Logan comments, "that obvious, huh?" Max comments right back, "yep. You got that "I'm preoccupied with my mission" vibe on your face."

Logan comes around the screens to her: With crossed arms, as he's in the habit of doing. But, she doesn't mind being seen like this: Not with him, anyway.

Logan asks, "and since when did you believe in vibes?"

With a roll of her eyes… Max faintly smiles bittersweetly, "not exactly. Manticore didn't give us much to believe but the mission. We had to make do with what we could."

Logan awkwardly says, "I'm sorry. Forget I brought it up."

Max insists frankly, "please don't. It's ok." Logan faintly smiles, "thanks."

Max adds, "no problem. So, go."

Logan sighs nervously: His back against a wall.

After a minute…he finds some words, "we both took some time to clear our heads. Only…I haven't exactly cleared up mine quite yet."

Max sits up in the water. She inquires worriedly, "why? What's stopping you?"

Logan implies, "what have you heard? About Canada these days?"

Max annoyedly says, "not much. I already asked why. So, don't make me guess."

Logan goes, "ok, ok! I'll break it down." Max faintly smiles, "sounds good."

Logan explains, "well… A few weeks after we last got in touch with Krit… He got in touch again. Said that there's been suicide bombers attacking large cities in Canada lately. I tried to get more information. I tried to call him back. But…"

Sounding fairly rattled now… Max asks, "but…what?"

Logan heavily sighs, "haven't had much luck, I'm afraid. Canada has closed off their borders until the terrorists are stopped. Communication in and out of the country is limited. And, any attempt to cross the borders by anyone will be considered a act of war."

Max gulps nervously, "ouch. That's got to be a pain in the ass: Not knowing who's left or who to save."

Logan adds, "yeah. And, believe it or not…that's not even the worse of it."

Max attentively says, "ok. Tell me then. Please."

Teary eyed… Logan uncomfortably goes on, "my aunt Toni: On my mother's side. She lives there. And…I hate not knowing where she is in all of this."

Teary eyed herself… Max voices openly, "yeah. Sniffle. I know what that's like."

She starts drying off from a dark blue towel hanging from behind her.

She checks as she does, "sure we shouldn't cancel our plans though?"

Logan faintly smiles, "thanks. But…yeah. I'm sure. I could sure use some mirth."

Max faintly chuckles, "me too. I'll be out soon." Logan solemnly nods, "ok."

With some lingering mixed feelings of what hasn't been said… He turns away.

But, out of nowhere…Max can't help but wonder, "what was Toni like?"

Logan pauses. He turns back.

He painfully recalls, "she…has always been very sensitive. One of the most thoughtful people I know, in fact." Max faintly smiles, "sounds a lot like yourself."

Logan awkwardly says, "yeah. I would say so. My mother always protected her: Particularly from my father Don. She helped out everyone she could. Even Don respected her for it. When my mother died though… Don hurt Toni. Almost fatally. All the accusations, lies, recriminations…it's how it all started. It's why my mother's side doesn't come visit. But, I guess it's good they've found better: Away from it all."

Max solemnly says, "yeah. Sure sounds it. Canada was protected from the Pulse though, and free for all and crap. It's going to be ok. And, not just for Toni."

Still a little more than a little shaken… Logan says, "I hope you're right."

Max starts getting into her dark blue bathrobe.

Max comments snarkily, "I usually am."

Logan faintly chuckles…as he walks back over to the other side of the screens.

Forty five minutes later, over in California…

The pantone lined silvery symbol of Treyarch is up top of a office complex. It's built up with military grade concrete, in painted up walls of whispery silvery brown.

Guys in military uniform are standing behind many windows: Armed and ready.

A body scanner arch is in front of the front doors: With privately designed scanners capable of scanning down to the very DNA of someone, their skin cells and possible acme build up, and their brain tissue in all its levels of creepy.

In jet black jackets and matching black hoodies over their faces… Sydney and another figure stealthily make their way up the snow covered hillside.

There's only a few trees around. But, it's enough to make it up without being seen.

At a near whisper, Sydney asks, "you got the grappling hook?"

The other figure answers, "yeah. I got it, Syd." He un-straps the mostly black grappling hook launcher from the back of his jacket, and passes it to Sydney.

His name is Duncan: Sydney's closest friend since childhood, and the only friend she could always count on. He has mullet like medium very dark brown hair, very focused eyes, a faint mustache, a faint beard, and kind of seriously built arm muscle.

Sydney adds, "thanks."

Duncan uneasily figures, "sure. But…you've been putting off VR for a long time, Syd. And, I just got to ask: Are you sure you're ready to face it? That side of you?"

Sydney's mostly blue cellular phone rings. She says, "hold on. I got to take this."

In his kind of annoying way, Duncan says, "yeah. Sure. I'll just be looking out for you. Business as usual, really."

Sydney just faintly rolls her eyes: Having heard that one before.

Over the phone, she checks, "Samantha?"

From the other end… Samantha half jokingly asks, "who else would it be?"

Sydney acknowledges, "faint chuckle. Right."

Somewhat nervously, Samantha checks, "so…did you make it there ok?"

Sydney answers, "yeah. You know? Maybe it's a little too ok."

Samantha wonders uncertainly, "ok. What's up?"

Fairly nervous, Sydney outlines, "the soldiers in there. They haven't moved at all in the past several minutes. Not even their faces. It's kind of spooky."

Samantha pinpoints, "Sydney...I went out with Mister Anthony himself to get into his files. There aren't supposed to be any on Christmas Eve."

Sydney argues, "that's crazy. I'm looking right in their direction!"

Duncan thinks out loud, "hmm."

Over the phone, Sydney concludes, "hold on. I'll call you back." She hangs up.

She wonders, "what is it, Dunc?"

Duncan figures, "something just doesn't hold up."

He throws a rock at one of the soldiers. He goes down easy: Too easily.

Glass shatters, a alarm goes off… But, none of the other soldiers move.

Sydney exclaims, "Duncan! What were you…?!"

Duncan points out confidently, "come on. Look." Sydney says uneasily, "ok."

He walks right through the door: Not caring how much the body scanner beeps.

Sydney reluctantly follows.

Green blurry lights are up. Screenshots of Call of Duty are framed across the way.

Duncan explains simply, "they're just cardboard, Syd. Little green fake guys."

He knocks over another solider…letting him fall over several more like cheap toys.

Rounds of blanks go off harmlessly across the hall.

A little embarrassed, Sydney realizes, "oh. Sorry."

Duncan mostly assures, "it's ok. Operation Fortitude favors the bold."

Sydney wonders curiously, "what's Operation Fortitude?"

Duncan answers, "I'll explain later. Looks like we're not the only ones here."

A woman wearing a pink short sleeved dress with black triangles comes down the hall: In her late twenties, and with very light medium brown hair over her shoulders.

She nervously asks, "umm…hello. Who are you?"

Duncan has a hand on a gun in his pocket. Sydney mostly assures him though, "hold off there, Duncan. I don't think she means to hurt us."

Duncan solemnly nods. He takes his hand out of his pocket.

The woman says, "that's the last thing I'd want. I was just paid three million off the street to watch over things while everyone was gone for the holidays. And, guard something called a SyBox: Whatever it is."

Not sure what to think, Sydney moderately sighs, "well, I hate to break to you ki… Umm… What's your name?" The woman introduces herself, "Mollie."

Sydney says, "well, Mollie… I think you should consider changing professions. You really don't seem to be good at this."

Mollie nervously reasons, "well…to be honest… These aren't the main defenses."

Duncan sarcastically mutters, "terrific."

Sydney says very uneasily, "we don't want to hurt you. So, how about you make it easier on yourself and tell us what they are?"

Mollie concludes nervously, "actually…they thought of that already. They told me to give this to you. Please don't hurt me: I'm just a messenger."

She hands over a piece of shiny aluminum foil paper. Duncan takes it.

Sydney faintly smiles, "that's the last thing we want. Just don't try something you'll regret, and we won't."

Mollie faintly smiles back, "thank you." Sydney adds, "don't mention it."

Duncan says, "umm…Syd… You should take a look at this."

Sydney starts to ask, "why? What is…? Ohh…shoot."

The paper says this:

Any attempt to shut down, destroy, or reprogram our systems will start a silent self destruct. And, the entire city will be destroyed: Along with our VR.9 system.

Any attempt to leak information about the VR.9 system will be sought out through the system and be destroyed in nanoseconds: Along with your system.

If you value any life… We on behalf of Treyarch suggest you leave now.

Around this time, back with Max and Logan…

It's already 9 P.M. And, the party is just getting started.

The gang's mostly all here. And, there's plenty of booze and eggnog to go around.

Though, after the turkey feast…there wasn't a whole lot of room left for eggnog.

Kendra isn't coming. But, only because it's her first Christmas to be with Walter.

When Max and Kendra were living together, they had a single Christmas together.

Mostly for Kendra's sake, because Original Cindy isn't big on the holidays either.

She dropped off some presents for them. But, she stopped by Max's place to wish Max and Original Cindy happy holidays all the same.

Over on the couch, Syl and Sketchy are talking.

Sketchy is in his long sleeved red lined light tan yellow open overshirt over gray. Syl is in a foggy white T-shirt with a hovering distorted looking halo on it. And, their half drunk eggnog glasses are resting on the long low cut glass table.

Not very far off, Logan is setting a boxed computer in blocky blue up on a marble white camera stand. He's checked the side slot ahead of time to make sure it's working.

With a little unease… Syl asks, "so…how are you holding up?"

With a rattled sigh… Sketchy figures, "not so great. The Homewreckers are looking to come back by next week to wreck my place on some resell kick."

Sounding quite calm now… Syl assures him, "ohh! I wouldn't worry about that. Between the both of us, I'm sure we'll think of something. Awkward chuckle. For a minute there, you almost had me worried."

Sketchy faintly smiles, "thanks. So, what did you think I was going to say?"

Syl awkwardly brings up, "well…Herbal."

Sketchy faintly nods in reflection, "yeah. I sure do miss him. We all do. But…the man is in official unofficial sainthood now. And, the wheels of Babylon go on."

Syl says, "oh, I don't know." Sketchy looks at her kind of defensively, "what?"

A little red in the face… Syl clarifies, "sorry, Sketch. I don't mean Herbal."

Sketchy realizes awkwardly, "oh. I knew that."

Syl chuckles, "whatever you say, Sketch. I just meant the guns and bosses on top. I mean…Eyes Only has pretty much put a high stake in corporate power for the little guys and big guys. Shouldn't that shoot down a good half of those rats at least?"

Sketchy takes a sip from his eggnog.

He solemnly concludes, "you know? You're right. A new year is coming around the corner. We can most definitely hope." Syl faintly smiles, "thanks."

Meanwhile… Max is in a dark gray chair further back: Not far from the candle lit fireplace. She is in her open bright gold army jacket and a white top.

Her mother Anin and Original Cindy are gathered near in gray cushioned chairs.

Anin is in a yellow tinted white sweater like dress. Original Cindy is in a black top: With a silver cross, and the words "Cross Me and U R Dead" in white up and below.

Max offers, "here you go."

She passes a DVD case to Anin, with hints of tree branches in red on the back.

Mostly in Spanish… Anin says, "I have heard of the Bible becoming movies. But… This looks less forceful in its telling of it. Logan is very lucky to have you."

With some amusement… Max faintly smiles, "no one "has" me. But, thanks."

With a mixed sense of relief, Anin adds, "you are welcome."

Max takes the DVD back from Anin.

Turning to her right… Max then asks, "so…what do you think, girl?"

She passes it over to Original Cindy for her to look.

Original Cindy remarks, "damn. The ain't so perfect Mr. Christ himself done up as a perfect man. Wouldn't miss this for the world."

With a faint chuckle… Max figures, "thanks. Now, I just got to see what his Holiness thinks."

And, she's thinking to herself, "and if so, I'll have another person to give thanks to. Kendra: For letting me go through her stuff to pick out something and pass it off as my own. She's cool like that sometimes."

Not very long after…

A little confused… Logan asks, "what's this?"

He was back at his desk for a bit, going through his drawers for something…when Max just starts standing there out of nowhere.

She hands him the DVD.

Turns out it's of The Last Temptation of Christ: With Jesus's face up front and all.

Max faintly smiles, "consider it a early Christmas present."

Logan nervously chuckles as he starts turning the case over to look at the back. He admits, "I got to be honest. As a reformed Christian…I'm not sure what to make of it.

Max sarcastically suggests, "shame. I was kind of hoping we could watch. But, only if you're cool with it."

Logan considers, "still…" Max asks intently, "what?"

Logan comments, "kind of last minute. Don't you think?"

Stuck up sounding… Max adds, "not with The Warriors on reserve. 1979."

Logan realizes, "you've been nosing around." Max casually admits, "maybe."

Logan puts the DVD down on the desk. He gets up to face her.

Kind of not serious though, Logan suggests, "and if I were to change the locks?"

Max bluntly figures, "I'd break them, and then I'd kick your ass. You kind of knew what you were getting into with the bitch."

Logan holds her close. She's already smiling.

And, with his arms around her… He tells her, "and I haven't regretted it: Not for a second."

Max lightly chuckles.

And, then they kiss deeply: Their arms around one another.

Twenty five minutes or so later…

The boxed computer screen is lit with blue as the movie plays.

Computer generated Spanish subtitles cast faint yellow shadows from the screen.

Most of everyone is on the couch.

Max is sitting close to Logan on one end. A calm looking Anin is in the middle. Original Cindy is sitting on the other end, drinking some beer and smiling to herself. And, Syl and Sketchy are cozied up together in one of the comfy chairs.

With a soft but seductively calm kind of voice… Magdalene wonders, "Is it so bad, sharing a prostitute's room? You'll still have your virginity for the desert. I promise."

With a darkly firm but wandering voice, Jesus says, "I can't stay, Mary. I'm sorry."

A little shaken, Logan voices, "yeah. Remember what I said about no regrets?"

Max comments sarcastically, "why? Too much for a Messiah like yourself?"

Logan answers, "not exactly. Just… It seems to go out of its way to be bent."

Retrospectively, Sketchy figures, "but that's the whole point. The Romans were terrifying, man. But, come after hours, and everyone was getting bent just to get away. Prostitutes, crucifixions, bisexuals, bobbing for drinks… Nothing was taboo. What?"

Most everyone else is staring at him.

Well…aside from Max: Who is slightly amused. And, Logan, who is silently calm about it: Knowing Sketchy well enough not to get up in arms over it.

Original Cindy is quick to point out, "you're a idiot."

Syl faintly smiles awkwardly, "but, at least he doesn't try to be."

Original Cindy slightly chuckles, "Original Cindy can't argue with that."

The room calms down after that.

Sounding very relieved… Sketchy adds, "thank you."

With a awkward grin… Syl says, "you're welcome. Just don't expect to do well in history."

Just then, the phone rings.

Before anyone else says anything… Max figures, "no need. I'll get it."

She starts to get up from the couch.

As she heads for Logan's office though… Max pauses, "you ok though?"

Logan faintly smiles assuringly, "yeah. I am. Thanks." Max figures, "good."

She picks up the office phone receiver.

And, she asks, "who is…this?"

From a distance… Her cat like eyes see someone out the window: With a marble white lined black cellular phone. It's Samantha: Still in her black velvet coat.

Over the phone… Samantha says uneasily, "you don't know me. But, listen carefully. I'm Sydney's sister. And, I need you and Syl's help."

Max questions uneasily, "if you need help though…why not just turn to Eyes Only for help? Surely if you know Sydney Bloom…"

Samantha insists stubbornly, "no. This is too big for Eyes Only."

She takes a deep breath. And, she starts getting teary eyed.

Max checks, "you ok?"

Samantha faintly assures her, "no. But, I've been through worse. No. Moderate sigh. That's not true. We're more alike than you know."

In black and white… Memory flashes of two little girls in plaid dresses go by…with the sight of a car crashing off the edge of a river bank into the water.

Kind of amused, Max implies, "you'll have to tell me someday." With a faint smirk, Samantha concludes, "maybe. We'll see. But, that's not important right now."

Max realizes, "right. We'll help. But, only if Logan comes with us."

Samantha mutters lowly, "no!" She moderately sighs, "I'm sorry. But, I can't. If Eyes Only finds out what Treyarch's got…everyone will try to have it."

Max harshly shoots back, "let me break this down for you so you understand. If he doesn't come, I don't. And, then I'll be after your ass to uncover what you don't want me to uncover. So, which is it going be?"

Samantha realizes uneasily, "moderate sigh. He means that much to you?"

Like it's a trick question, Max answers, "yes."

Samantha nervously reasons, "ok. But, no one else."

Max adds hotly, "glad we understand each other then."

She hangs up.

A short while later…

The ramjet is soaring through the departing smog tainted clouds, leaving behind faint trails of smog in the night sky.

Syl and a somewhat shaken Logan are sitting strapped in on some medical beds due to a lack of seats. And, in the back is a bunch of mostly gray old fashioned computers on a black utility cart: All hooked up together with a mess of wires.

Samantha is piloting: With some dark purple velcro gloves laced with fiber optics and a pair of black rimmed sunglasses with a cycling red visor like light. Max is in the co-pilot seat: Looking more than a little uncomfortable in her black catsuit.

In a memory flash, not very long ago…

Max is at the door in her black catsuit. Max turns to leave…when she stops.

She faintly smiles kind of sarcastically, "mother. Come to wish me luck?"

Anin hugs her tight, like it could very well be the last. Max hugs her back.

Anin reflects somberly, "I know. This is what you do. Just please come back."

Max promises, "I will, mother. That's a promise." Anin faintly smiles, "good."

Presently…

It's mostly been a very quiet ride. But, Max breaks the awkward silence.

She has to say it, "I know whatever this is is top secret and crap, and you might make another big deal over it. But, it's hard to know what we're in for if you don't spill."

Samantha begrudgingly accepts it, "fine. I'll give you the cliff notes. You probably already figured out what VR.1 and VR.2 are. VR.3 is a flight simulator for pilots. There were plenty around before the Pulse. But, I wasn't too sure if…"

In a mixed kind of sense, Max insists, "yeah. We kind of did. But, thanks."

Very uneasily, Samantha says, "sure. VR.4 is cyberspace. VR.5 is basic virtual sensory reality. VR.6 is advanced virtual sensory reality. It can transmit thoughts on the conscious level. VR.7 is virtual dreamscape. VR.8. is virtual personality transference."

Syl mutters to herself, "damn. This really is big." Max adds, "straight up."

Samantha reflects nervously, "yeah. It is. And, VR.9…is complete virtual reality immersion. In there…there is no distinction between dreams and reality. Days can go by in seconds. Not unless you're encoded into the system, or can process information as fast as it. I may not know much about Manticore. But, you and Syl can. Most likely."

Logan speaks up in concern, "and if they can't?"

Samantha divulges, "Then… They'd be vegetables in a California hospital."

Logan points out, "you know, that doesn't sound very comforting."

Samantha tries to put it more delicately, "if it was a non-genetically enhanced person…it could lead to brain death. But, that's not going to happen here."

Syl gulps nervously. Max comments, "great. As if being a genetically enhanced killing machine wasn't bent enough."

Samantha concludes reluctantly, "moderate sigh. Guess you should know more of what to expect. Might help more."

Max sees she's on the verge of tears just thinking about it.

With mixed feelings, Max says, "then spill. Please."

Samantha goes on, "ok. After the Committee came down… Sydney created a video game system around VR.9. The SyBox. Easy to use. I tried to talk her out of it. But… Sniffle. She wouldn't listen. In the wake of the Pulse, we thought it was destroyed. And, I felt some small comfort from that. But, now Treyarch has picked up enough pieces to build it up again. And, now here we are: Paying for it. Sniffle!"

She gets out some tissues from a glove compartment: Trying to wipe away her tears with one hand while concentrating on flying the ramjet.

The ramjet starts to nose dive out of the sky.

Logan starts to ask, "you want me to…?" Max insists, "I got it."

She steps in and steadies the controls.

And, after several long minutes…Samantha looks up.

Sounding very embarrassed, Samantha says, "Sorry. All I'm trying to say…is that it's a very small chance, Max. You'll be ok. It's Sydney I'm worried about."

Teary eyed, Max adds solemnly, "I'm sorry." Samantha insists stubbornly, "no. I should be. We both should be. Can I get back to flying now?"

Syl uneasily says, "some reunion."

Max concludes, "sure. But…you know where to find me if you need to crash."

She gives Samantha back the controls.

Samantha figures, "doubt it. But, thanks anyway." Max says, "not a problem."

Back with Sydney, Mollie, and Duncan…

Sydney reasons determinedly, "even with all these fail safes, there must be some kind of backdoor. Every system has a weak point: No matter how small it might be."

Duncan grimly says, "only one way to find out." Sydney faintly nods, "right."

Sydney and Duncan have been in a corporate office, looking over the reconstructed SyBox connected to a row of four black laptops for something that might've been missed.

But, under the lights of the green room… Their vision gets blurrier and blurrier.

They grimly realize they've been at this for hours. And, nothing.

Mollie is coming back from the silver and green blurred Rec room with filled up plastic cups of water. She says, "you seem tired. Maybe some water will help."

Duncan adds, "thanks."

After taking a cautionary sniff… Sydney says, "sounds…good."

Suddenly…the water bubbles up: Melting away into quickly forming sleeping gas.

Sydney and Duncan fall unconscious in a instant. They both fall to the floor.

Out into the real…

From wall to wall…there's phone lines built in: With little holes and everything. A crude VR.5 interface for a crude place.

Mollie is there: Sitting before one of the screens. It shows the scene that occurred.

And, over to the side…the left comatose bodies of Duncan and Sydney are on medical stretchers: Long before they realized too late what was up.

In spite of what she's done though… Mollie looks close to tears.

And, she mutters under her breath, "I'm sorry. But, it's the only way I can be forgiven for my sin."


	10. Episode 10: Nightmare on Jesus St, Pt 2

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 10:

Further into the night…

The ramjet has landed on a dark corporate office building: Overlooking the far side of the hill, not very far from Treyarch.

Faint smog casts rockets red glare. A unsettling afterglow of rallying cries of justice: From when the Pulse hit…and when the walls fell.

Max and Syl are out on the roof: Trying to get some clue of what's what. Syl has some blue tinted binoculars with infrared to look through. Max has her cat like eyes.

Max checks, "see anything out of place?"

Now in a black catsuit… Syl faintly chuckles nervously, "where do you start? No soldiers. No security. Plenty of unnecessary holes in the perimeter. A broken window. And…only one woman at a computer. For all we know, it could all be one big lockbox."

Max tries to say with certainty, "still…might be easier than we thought."

Doubtful sounding, Syl figures, "maybe."

Max asks, "and Sydney and Duncan?" Syl reports, "they still got normal body temperature. But…they're in some sleeping trance. I don't know what to make of it."

Max moderately sighs, "so much for easy."

Around this time, back in the ramjet…

Samantha is hooking up the computers and the mess of wires on the cart with her red suitcase computer: Using a pair of brown utility gloves to protect her hands.

She's not wearing sunglasses. Though, several sets of velcro purple gloves and black rimmed sunglasses with cycling red are resting on the lower interior half of the cart.

Logan is just sitting on a medical bed in back: Deep in his own thoughts.

Not taking it anymore… Samantha heavily sighs.

She takes a break from what she's doing. And, she turns to face him.

She says uneasily, "look. I don't want to fight anymore than you."

Kind of shaken, Logan says, "well, you sure have a interesting way of showing it."

Samantha admits openly, "yeah. Maybe. I didn't ask to bring you anyway. Max wanted you to come." Logan faintly smiles, "really?"

With a faint smile, Samantha answers, "yes. She loves you very much."

Kind of nervous with everything… Logan reflects, "I know. I'm lucky to have found her. We've both been lucky."

Samantha tries to delicately put it, "I'm not trying to ruin your mental picture of happiness…or anyone else's for that matter. But, you don't sound sure."

Logan insists firmly, "it's nothing like that. It's just…"

With hints of concern in her voice, Samantha asks, "just what?"

Logan moderately sighs.

He puts to question, "if a super secretive committee of cold blooded killers were in business in a big way…wouldn't you be having second thoughts?"

Teary eyed, Samantha thinks out loud, "I already do. I have…ever since that day."

She suddenly starts to glare at him, "you sure you didn't do some digging on us?"

Logan uncomfortably says, "no. I'm sure."

Sounding more sure of himself, he says, "I may not know what you've gone through. But, for what it's worth…I'm sorry."

Samantha is quick to conclude, "I should be. I never should have gotten up in your case about the SyBox. But…thanks."

Logan mostly assures, "it's ok. I can tell family means a lot to you."

With mixed feelings, Samantha comments, "you have no idea." She quickly adds, "I should get back to setting the mobile unit up. Very delicate equipment."

Logan says faintly calm, "yeah. Sure."

Samantha goes back over to her mostly finished mobile VR unit.

But, as she starts to continue working… She asks, "can I ask you something?"

A little surprised, Logan figures, "go ahead."

Samantha turns back to him. She asks very reluctantly, "if anything happens to us… Can I trust you to protect us?"

Like it's obvious, Logan says, "of course. But, there's more to it. Isn't there?"

Samantha admits nervously, "yeah. I don't know you well enough to trust you. But…I'd much rather we all come out alive than dead. Now, if you don't mind, I got something to finish so we can get this over with." Logan solemnly voices, "fair enough."

And with that…Samantha turns back to working on the mobile VR unit.

Not long before, in VR minutes…

First, there is darkness.

Then…out of the dark… A star shines through.

But, past the light… There is no star: Only Sydney's very shadow radiating starlight. She's floating there, with two cupped hands over her crossed legs.

In her own thoughts… Sydney comments, "faint laugh. Guess that meditation technique you taught me came in handy after all, Duncan."

Then… A blurry light crackles in the sky.

A blackened house with ribbons of light blue loom ahead on a field of grass.

And, the ghostly spirit of Sydney Bloom comes touching down before the green door: With angelic wings of white and a fancy white gown.

She nervously knocks on the door. But, it burns.

Sydney clutches her hand. But…the pain soon goes away.

And, her hand returns to normal.

From the other side of the door, Mollie calls out, "go away!"

Sydney moderately sighs to herself.

She figures, "I'm sorry. But, I can't. Whether you know it or not…you've become part of a very dangerous game. And, I'm going to end it: Even if I have to kill you."

Mollie opens the door.

Behind her is pitch black. And, the crackling is getting worse.

Her eyes are teary and reddened, like she hasn't slept in weeks.

A saddened Mollie says, "I don't want to kill either. Not again."

Kind of taken aback by this… Sydney wonders, "did you have to?"

Mollie determinedly voices, "I have to finish what I've come to do. It's the only way I can be forgiven for my sin. Just don't get in the way. Please."

Sydney tries to tell her, "the men in Treyarch have committed plenty of sins. I know that may be hard for you to take. But…"

Mollie fiercely mutters, "no! It's you who doesn't understand. I can't stop now. Only the SyBox can put me on the path to forgiveness…and for everyone else. There's too much suffering in America. And, only they can end it."

With very mixed feelings… Sydney sighs deeply, "I understand what you're trying to achieve. But, no one can make people forgive Mollie."

Mollie goes on to justify, "no. But, the SyBox is a push in the right direction. And, if we really are so alike…you'll go."

And, she closes the door on Sydney.

Sydney tries to reach for it again: Only for the house to vanish in a puff of smoke.

She groans in frustration.

And, she sits there in the white light: Trying to think of something.

Out in the physical…

The VR unit's monitors are spread out on a medical bed, along with the gloves and black rimmed sunglasses from earlier. They're lit in frozen rain like blue and yellow screensavers: With Treyarch HQ or Ramjet over each in sharply dim yellow letters.

Given the circumstances… Samantha, Syl, and Max are all putting on the gloves. And, Logan is sitting across from them on the other bed.

Samantha checks, "are you ready?"

A little nervous, Syl comments, "as I'll ever be. What about you?"

Samantha faintly smiles reflectively, "I've gone in before. I'll be ok."

Max turns to her, "you sure? Cause you sure as hell haven't been."

Logan mutters lowly, "Max."

Samantha mostly assures them both, "it's ok, Max. I'm sure I will be: After we get this over with." Max faintly says, "sounds good."

She and Syl reach for the black rimmed sunglasses before them.

Looking back over… Samantha reminds Logan, "and if we don't come out?"

Fairly confidently, Logan answers, "then I'll go into Treyarch and find a way to save all of you." Max remarks with a smile, "wouldn't expect less from a Messiah."

Logan faintly smiles back.

Syl faintly chuckles.

Samantha finishes pressing a bunch of keys. And, the VR unit starts ringing.

Syl asks, "ready, sis?"

Max figures, "as ready as I'm going to be. Let's get this bitch over with."

Samantha suddenly looks a little uncomfortable. But, she doesn't say anything: Especially with time flying by in VR as it is, and with her willful determination to shut down the SyBox for good.

Samantha reaches for her black rimmed sunglasses.

And, she faintly says, "see you on the other side."

She presses enter. And, everything starts going crazy.

In VR…

A very dark silvery purple wormhole of watery distortions appears before them: With orbs all around. Before Samantha, it stays as such.

Before Max…it all fluctuates between superfast purple binary code and orbs.

Before Syl…it all gets sharply clear in blurry afterimages. Pretty much thanks to her nictitating membranes: Courtesy of her Manticore DNA.

And, as quickly as it comes…it stops.

Not long after, in VR minutes…

Samantha wakes up in a dark room.

Assuming the worst… Samantha draws out her pistol.

She looks around to see. But…nothing.

Samantha starts muttering nervously to herself, "where is…?"

She then sees a old movie projector with the official seal of the Library of Congress on it, followed by a dimly lit white projector screen. And, on a small wood table…are some open dark red and dark brown history books.

One is Navigating the Labyrinth of Political Campaigns in the early 1900's.

Another is titled The Rise and Fall of BioWare's Old Republic.

On its cover is a Sith Lord, with black robes like death and a EA branded very dark red Mandalorian helmet styled machine head: Crushing a brain in its bare hand mostly made out of microchips, plastique, and shooting out splatters of dark red liquid.

Samantha faintly chuckles, "hmm. Don't remember finding…you."

As she starts flipping through the pages though…it all starts to hit.

Flashes of a possible future roll in her head.

Treyarch buildings grow across the country in glowing red…giving rise to billions of people in Sith robes: Praying to Mister Anthony's giant bronze statue of his bald head.

And, as quickly as it comes, it fades.

But, then…the Sith Lord's free hand comes out of the cover.

Before Samantha even realizes it…it's around her throat: Choking her.

And, the dark side of the force is the only thing holding up the book.

As the room starts to blur… She angrily glares at the Sith Lord's laughing face.

With mental resistance so fair… She reaches for her pistol: Which has now turned into a medieval torch.

She drives it into the book. And, it burns and burns in a terrifying shriek.

The torch disappears in a puff of smoke. But, the book is no more.

Catching her breath… Samantha mutters faintly, "well…that was new."

The projector starts rolling: In color…against a mostly brown and faint yellow underground bunker of some kind.

Samantha catches another sound though, and she shakily turns to face it.

A wall swings open.

And, the ghostly spirit of Sydney is there: In her near blinding white glow.

Samantha wonders nervously, "Sydney?!"

With a faint uneasy chuckle… Sydney pinpoints, "come on, Samantha. There's only one woman running everything in here, and she's not exactly willing to listen. Who do you think would give you what they were planning so easily?"

Kind of embarrassed and relieved all at once… Samantha realizes, "ohh."

Sydney concludes, "yeah. I'll explain. But, we should…go."

Then… All goes black.

In the dark… Samantha calls out to her, "Sydney?!"

Sydney mostly assures, "I'm ok. Are you?" Samantha uneasily adds, "I think so."

Dim lights come back on: Over the underground bunker they find themselves in.

Suddenly, Samantha gasps. Sydney asks, "what's…wrong?"

As they look at each other… They chillingly realize they seem to have reverted back to nine or so years old: Both in plaid dresses of pink and white, and with long hair.

A teary eyed Samantha mutters under her breath, "it can't be."

Sydney looks all the more confused, "what can't be? Samantha!"

The sound of cars speeding along fills the corridor. The water level starts to rise.

Samantha breaks into a run, heading for a ghostly white door just her size.

Sydney runs after her.

Through the peephole…

Samantha sees a figure with medium light brown parted hair before a metal table in the dark. And, she knows all too well who it is.

Standing over his shoulder is a figure in all black. Another figure is off to the side, holding a pistol and watching over a grown Samantha. And, she looks shaky as hell.

Kind of taken aback…Sydney realizes, "is that our father?"

The young Samantha sniffles in response.

Through the peephole…

Samantha's father highlights, "you're talking about VR.9 as though it's just another computer program for the benefit of mankind. But, you're looking to enslave us all. I hate you. I hate being forced to choose one life over another. But, I will never let you make me make this system!"

One of the figures voices coldly, "fine. Your daughter can carry on your work."

Samantha's father shouts angrily, "over my dead body!"

He tries to tackle him. But, the figure just takes him out with the side of his pistol.

Samantha bends over, breaking into tears.

The first figure motions over to several other guys. They drag Samantha's father out the door and down a mostly brown and faint yellow corridor to another room.

The second figure mutters unemotionally, "kids."

He drinks from his bottle of alcohol while still holding his gun.

In spite of her tears… Samantha has had enough.

She kicks straight into him and his bottle of alcohol…sending cold alcohol and glass pieces flying into him as he hits the floor.

Samantha punches him in the head for good measure: Knocking him out.

Not sure what else to do… She takes his pistol and goes after the other men.

Not caring who else hears… She calls out, "daddy! Daddy!"

The tears keep going. But, she isn't stopping.

Two guys stand before a quickly closed door.

They draw out pistols. But, Samantha just shoots their hands.

They scream in excruciating pain as they clutch their injured hands.

And, Samantha just shoots them in the heart.

They both fall over dead. But, all she can think of is her father.

And, as the last figure is aiming right for his head… Samantha screams, "no! ! !"

She shoots the figure in the heart: Multiple times.

A trail of dark red liquid flies up. And, as quickly as it happens…he's dead.

Samantha breathes heavily against the doorframe, catching her breath.

Then…she hurries over to her unconscious father.

She bends over. She checks his heartbeat with her other hand.

She faintly smiles in relief as she hears his heart beating.

But, then…her smile fades. And, the reality of what she's done finally hits.

She drops the gun.

And, she just sits there: Sobbing and sobbing for who knows how long.

With her eyes so sore from crying already…it's all silent tears. Painful silent tears.

Back with young Sydney and Samantha…

The sound of a car crashing into water echoes through the corridor.

Sydney tries to cover her ears. But, it doesn't stop her from hearing the crash.

Samantha is sobbing over the door. And, the water is already up to their shoulders.

Sydney urges, "yes. What happened was painful. But, we got to get out of here!"

Through her resurfacing tears… Samantha mumbles, "leave me here to die."

Teary eyed herself… Sydney very uneasily says, "but…you're my sister."

In a faint flash of light… Samantha and Sydney go back to their present bodies.

The water level is still rising. But, it's now only down to their waists.

Against the wall… Samantha reveals, "I know. I thought our resurfaced memories would give us peace. But… I never really have it. Sniffle! When I close my eyes, I see their faces. I see who I've murdered. And after tonight…I can see what I'm becoming."

Sydney pieces together, "you think you're turning into one of them?"

Samantha slowly nods.

The water level is now up to their shoulders.

Sydney challenges, "why? What did you do that's so wrong?"

Samantha answers bitterly, "I go undercover to Mister Anthony's because I felt I didn't have any other choice. I let Max and Syl in on it because I felt I didn't have any other choice. I let Logan come because I felt I didn't have any other choice. And, what do I do when I fly them over? I blow up in Logan's face about it!"

And, she turns back to face her, "now I ask you: Who does that remind you of?"

Sydney comments simply, "Max."

Samantha goes wide eyed…as the water level reaches their faces.

A embarrassed expression falls on her face.

Without another care…she hugs Sydney. Sydney hugs her back.

And, they both start to glow in starlight: Vaporizing the water all around them.

Samantha faintly sighs, "faint laugh. I'm just being hard on myself. Aren't I?"

Sydney insists assuringly, "it's ok. We've faced worse before."

Samantha argues, "no. We haven't. But…thank you."

Sydney faintly smiles, "don't mention it."

And, in a flash of starlight… They vanish from the bunker.

Meanwhile, in VR minutes…

Syl and Sketchy are in Sketchy's apartment, making out "very closely" over the worn out yellow sheeted bed in the dark of night. Their clothes are off on the floor.

But, then… Sketchy's skin starts feeling hairy.

On reflex, Syl pushes him off.

Very confused, Sketchy asks, "what? What did I…?"

Syl screams.

Sketchy's skin is rapidly becoming black rat hair.

His face is turning all whiskery. And, his hands are becoming pink and bony claws.

Syl gets off the bed. And, she ducks into the corner like a scared rat.

She closes her eyes. And, she takes deep breaths.

She keeps muttering to herself, "not real. Not real."

She then opens them…to find a humanoid rat coming after her: Erect fur and all.

Syl mutters to herself, "damn. Still there!"

Syl closes her eyes again: Even as they're tearing up in fear.

As the humanoid rat squeaks at her… Syl pulls out a rifle.

As tears fall… Syl voices chillingly, "I love you, Sketch. But…I'm sorry."

And as the humanoid rat tries to bite her on impulse… Syl shoots him in the head.

Dark red liquid appears around his rat head, seeping into the floor.

And, Syl just sits there: Silently crying to herself.

Meanwhile, in VR minutes…

Max wakes up: In a hospital bed, surrounded by very dark red lighting.

She finds that she can only see out of one irritated eye. And, as she desperately looks for the answer out of the corner of that one eye…she looks about ready to throw up.

Her entire left side is disfigured, with deep red burns all over. And, standing over her…sharpening some surgical knives…is Lydecker with a surgeon's mask on.

Out of the working side of her mouth… Max sputters angrily, "you…bas…tard! Logan…killed you. Go back…to hell before I…!"

Lydecker just laughs disturbingly at her, "oh, him? He can only walk through Heaven now. As for you? I'm going to enjoy every minute of this. Don't strain yourself: It'll only make the procedure more painful."

Through Max's cat like eye though, she sees some floating black digits of code. And, with her expert in telecommunications…she sees a small backdoor.

Max glares right at a piece of code…and her mouth and eyes heal instantly.

Max shouts, "what the hell are you doing to me?!"

Lydecker puts down the knives.

He goes on a rant, "drinking near destroyed my life. You and Logan actually succeeded: You and that son of a bitch Madame X! But, what matters now is that I'm alive. You can thank the last surviving doctor from Manticore for thinking up a way. Incredible. And, of course my good friend Mister Anthony for paying him off to get all of this to happen. Do you really think resurrecting the SyBox was by mere coincidence?"

Max mutters, "and where's the part where you gloat about your vision thing?"

Lydecker says all too happily, "I thought you might ask."

He takes out a photo of his long dead high school sweetheart: With her very curly medium black hair and glasses. And, he tears it in half.

The left half begins to grow exponentially.

Breathing heavily… Max realizes, "oh, god. You're turning me into her?"

Lydecker divulges, "not physically. You messed up my vision. Now I'm going to mess with yours. Somehow, it's only fitting. In a weird way…I'm going to miss you."

He lays the inflated half of a picture down on Max's side. And, it starts giving off red hot smoke: As it is grafting itself painfully into her.

Yet, with a faint smile… Max remarks, "ohh. How pathetic. Especially when another side of me is not going anywhere."

Lydecker turns around…to see Max's inner bitch in a catsuit shoot him with a rifle.

Lydecker falls on the floor: Dead once more.

Max comments, "about time."

Max's inner bitch rips off the inflated picture: Much to Max's pained chagrin.

Max's inner bitch mutters, "ok. I may have helped you against a second inner bitch. But, that doesn't mean I'm going to just let you go back in your body that easy. Manticore, the ZFA, hoverdrones with guns… Face reality, sister: You won't stand a chance out there without me as the Alpha."

Max sits up, glaring straight at her. She argues back, "I don't care if you can raise the dead! I only let Zack give me a gun once because I already used up my grenade. The same one I had saved for a hoverdrone…only to have to kill Brin before a X-6 could kill me. Sniffle! Besides…two deaths in the same night can have that effect on your mind."

In her mixed feelings of guilt and shakiness…she sobs over the bed.

After what feels like forever… She holds up both of her hands: Taking some small comfort in that both of her sides are back to normal now.

Max's inner bitch concludes, "or you had me to save your ass that night…and that one in Louisiana…and that one in Canada…"

Still teary… Max shouts back, "ok! As hard as it is for you to get…I'm not trying to kick you on your ass. Yes: You're part of me. I get it! But, even with all the bitches I go through in life… Sniffle. You're too much like Manticore. And, even with Eva's death… Hell, all the deaths in the family getting down on me… It's worth keeping me real over. I'm stronger the way I am. And, that's why you'll never be the Alpha."

Max's inner bitch bittersweetly smiles back…teary eyed herself.

She swirls back into Max's shadow: Much to a faintly smiling Max's faint relief.

Within VR, before the night sky…

Samantha is saying, "you're saying Mollie was looking for a dead body and "just happened" to find a part of the SyBox in the ashes?" Sydney reasons, "looks like."

They're sitting before a computer monitor: Surrounded in bright starlight.

Samantha argues, "but that's crazy!"

Very uncomfortably… Sydney explains more, "not really. Just very unlikely. When I was up here before with my subconscious… I hacked into the main computer and dug up her criminal record. She was charged with second degree murder of Donna Markley for reckless endangerment and arson under the influence. They were best friends in high school. They went to a lot of the same parties, movies… You get the picture."

Through the monitor… Many pictures go by. Many with a lot of partying: In not so flattering shots of close up boobs and passing out with smashed bottles of alcohol.

One though has a yearbook photo with Class of 2008 under it. In it is Donna Markley: Long blond haired, a purple lined pink cheerleader outfit with belly button showing...and with a friendly arm around a younger blushing Mollie in a matching dress.

Another has a black and white prison photo of Mollie holding up her prison number: In a ragged dress, and with a heavily bruised side of her teary eyed face.

Sydney continues, "got up to seven years in prison. Then, a year later… The Pulse came. And all the prisoners in her cell block escaped. Most of them were never found."

Samantha remarks shakily, "perfect: A runaway crusader with no flag to wave."

Sydney comments, "I don't know. She really doesn't seem like the crusader type."

Samantha just mutters, "whatever. So, now what? I'd hate to have to kill her."

Sydney figures, "I know the feeling. But, if she won't…listen…"

Samantha turns to her, "what is it?"

With a faint smile… Sydney answers, "I think I got a plan. It might put her in danger. But, if it works, we won't have to kill anyone."

Samantha faintly smiles, "I like it already. So, what's the first part?"

Sydney figures, "find Max and Syl. Even if they're not in a great mental state…we're going to need all the help we can get." Samantha faintly nods, "on it."

Samantha is already typing a bunch of keys on the conveniently placed keyboard.

Not long after…

In the office…twenty soldiers are standing ready. Their leader looks a awful lot like Donna. But, she looks a lot more serious than in the photo.

Mollie is staring intensely at the computer: With several little screens of soldiers with flashlights up. She has a purple lined pink headset on as she's sitting in a pink chair.

Duncan is still unconscious on the floor. But, Sydney has vanished.

Mollie checks, "still nothing?"

One of the soldiers reports, "nothing…ma'am. What the hell?!"

Suddenly, all the screens are filled with bright light. A deadly silence follows.

At the computer in the sky… Samantha smiles to herself, "that's twenty down."

Mollie orders, "team Alpha, come in. Team Omega, come in. Anyone, come in!"

Sydney tells her, "they're ok. They're just shut down from the program."

Mollie goes wide eyed.

She turns around slowly…to see Sydney there: Not far from Duncan.

The leading soldier shouts, "take her down!"

The soldiers fire at Sydney.

She breaks into a run...as bullets make holes through empty cubicles.

The soldiers spread out: Trying to box Sydney in one of them.

Mollie marches right over to the leading solider.

She exclaims, "what the hell are you doing?! Those are supposed to be tranquilizers: Not bullets!" The leading soldier mutters back, "take it up with Mister Anthony. We have our orders, ma'am."

Mollie fiercely figures, "well, I'm in charge as of now. And, I say…!"

The leading soldier fires her gun at her.

But, out of nowhere…Syl knocks Mollie over.

Meanwhile… Max has snuck her way over to the computer. And, she wastes no time giving the screens new targets.

Max mutters, "you guys sure have been naughty. Time to say good night."

All the soldiers suddenly vanish in bright light: With Samantha's helping hand.

Max heaves a sigh of exhausted relief.

But, then she sees Syl: Clutching her shot shoulder, which is dripping dark red.

Max hurries over to her. So does Sydney.

Albeit fairly shaken… Mollie is getting on her feet.

Max checks, "you ok?"

Syl faintly chuckles, "yeah. It's not serious. But…thanks."

Max faintly smiles in relief, "no problem. How is she?"

Mollie is in her chair: Breathing heavily to herself as tears come down her face.

Sydney solemnly says, "I think she's going to need a lot of time to recover. But, no one else has found her. So…at least she'll have all the time in the world to."

Red in the face… Syl awkwardly realizes, "maybe we should go back."

Max figures, "yeah. Logan's probably got himself all worried."

From the crystal computer… Samantha figures somberly, "time to come home."

Max, Syl, and Samantha disappear in starlight.

Sydney though stays a bit longer. She just has to ask, "you ok there?"

Mollie faintly looks up. And, she admits, "I'm not. But… I will be. Thank you."

Sydney faintly smiles sympathetically, "you're welcome."

And with that… She vanishes in starlight.

Back out in the real…

Max, Syl, and Samantha take off the black rimmed glasses and gloves.

And, Max goes over to Logan. He's at the front, double checking radar readings.

Max grins at him, "Logan."

Logan faintly smiles at her, "Max. You ok?"

Max solemnly insists, "yeah. What about you? You been worried and crap?"

To her great confusion… Logan chuckles.

He figures, "Max…it's only been eight minutes."

Syl is quick to comment, "that's very hard to believe. It's been almost 10 hours."

Max faintly chuckles in realization, "must be part of that whole VR.9 trip thing."

Samantha figures, "must be. And, Max?"

Turning back to her… Max wonders, "yeah?"

Samantha very much implies, "with everything that has happened tonight…maybe I could tell you."

With some faint amusement, Max says, "maybe later. Right now, I want to get back to the mirth while I'm still in the mood."

Samantha solemnly says, "it's ok. I've got a Christmas party of my own to get to."

Logan and Syl faintly smile to themselves.

Max states, "same. Though…there's something I got to do first."

Not long after, under one of the two trees out there…

Standing there in her jacket… Sydney goes, "ok. What is it that couldn't wait?"

Max inquires, "why didn't you tell us about the SyBox? You know, before it turned into a crappy shot waiting to happen?"

Finding it hard to look at her… Sydney moderately sighs considerately, "yeah. Well…did you tell Logan? About Manticore?"

Left a little unsure of why, Max recalls, "no. He figured it out all his own. Why?"

Sydney explains somberly, "exactly why I couldn't tell anyone else: Outside of my family...and my friend Duncan."

Max realizes, "ohh." Like it's obvious, Sydney adds, "yeah."

Max figures, "guess I could let that one slide."

Sydney adds, "thanks. So…anything else that you just have to tell me?"

Max faintly smiles, "just one. So why don't we hang out?"

A little surprised by this… Sydney faintly chuckles.

As she turns to leave… She answers, "I should go. But…I'll think about it. Deal?"

Max faintly nods, "sure. Go get your party on."

Sydney comments, "not really. But, thanks." Max concludes, "sure."

They part company, circling back to the lives and families they hold dear.

The winter breeze parts ways, as the jolly begins to settle in in the night.

But, down on Jesus Street… It isn't just about jolly and thankfulness. It's about the birth of a new hope for the next year onward.

And, through the nightmares and dreams of the past… We all have it in us to be stronger than the pain: Because there's always hope for a new hope from within.


	11. Episode 11: Hellraiserz

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 11:

Over the Canadian border, more than a few weeks ago…

The sky was clear and bright.

People were spiraling down the highways on the way to work at varying times.

Plenty of escorts in mostly black cars and corporate taxis were out and about: All running on petroleum infused in coolant. All with guys with corporate black and white rifles with silencers.

Most of the pollutants get caught in the underlying coolant. But, if one of these taxis shook hard enough while running…it'll be the last thing it ever does.

Smooth roads have become mandatory 24/7, and even neglecting to send out robots to smooth them out overnight instantly leads to jail time.

A white and yellow striped corporate taxi arrived at a coal black parking garage.

It's been one of many: At the bases of the very expensive skyscrapers, with rings of metal reinforced city blocks. All heavily guarded by modern SERT guards in mostly dark red military special forces attire and passive red body scanners.

A man in a brown business suit with a black mohawk got out with his bodyguards.

As they went through the scanners… A computer voice chimed, "welcome to The Mac Towers, Tomas Kine." He muttered annoyedly to it, "yeah, yeah."

As he walked through the automatic door… It turned out the lobby…was really two. Every floor was really two.

One side was more like a American airport: With little shops, fancy restaurants with Americanized everything, and the floor done up like a giant American flag.

The other was more like a English palace with ten mostly black and red cushioned seated lounges to wait in. Each lounge was with a grey TV set that advertises the same thing 24/7. But, with a button for optional American Sign Language.

Against mostly blue screens in black letters… The announcer was going, "from the Shatner Resorts and the Fairchild Fashion Line to the Disneyland province and the OMNI TV Land conglomerate including themes parks…"

In 32-bit… Caitlin Fairchild's face and the face of a very iconic guy with the first name of William scroll by: Along with logos of Disney and OMNI TV.

And, the announcer said, "we are Canada: Redefining what united means long before the United States could possibly deserve their own name again. We are sorry for any heated disagreements within our borders that this advertisement may lead to. But, maybe you were just not united with us enough to truly understand when to take a joke."

All of this was passing by the TV screens: With the Canadian flag on both sides of each, and the fifty United States broken up like colorful puzzle pieces just zipping out.

Two young women in T-shirts were sitting across from one. They both had fairly long dark brown hair. Both had glass beer bottles.

One wore a black T-shirt with a green highway sign with Edmonton written on it.

She chuckled at the TV. And, she drank down the last of her beer.

She then faintly sighed, "that is never getting old."

The other young woman wore a black Watchman movie poster themed T-shirt, with Rorschach walking away in the rain in his dark brown overcoat.

She faintly chuckled, "yeah. Want some more beer?"

The first young woman faintly smiled, "yeah. Sure. Let's go get some."

They both got to their feet, heading for the nearest elevator.

Off to the side of this lounge though…was a silently teary eyed old lady with a coat button on her black jacket that she was tapping.

A surge of electricity shot through the lobby: Taking out the power.

From floor to floor, screams were shooting out. Everyone was running.

A second surge followed from the burnt old lady's pale corpse.

Fire spread from the lobby like it was the wrath of God.

The screams pierced the sky…as the entire parking lot was swept into flames.

Glass windows burst apart in a flaming column of death.

Cars that were just passing by were swept into a storm of unrelenting flaming glass. Escorts shielded their eyes…even as glass exploded into their burning arms.

The sky was no longer clear. The morning light was choked on death.

Presently, in the year 2021…

Down in California, the morning light shines bright over the mostly melted snow.

The sky is bright blue. That is, except for the trails of thin smog trailing on.

Past several dome like complexes… Past the Seymo_r's Eat More sign in neon…

There's a certain dome like complex.

And, up top… There's Sydney's apartment: Right across from Samantha's.

It's mostly done up in white marble like paint.

A big clock face with silvery numbers before a dark blue backdrop is in back. Two built in TV screens are on either side of it: With two black comfy chairs before each one.

A wheeled medical bed with mostly white monitoring equipment is to the side: Not far off from a dimly lit bedroom with two mostly dark green sheeted beds. Sydney's and Samantha's suitcase computers are resting on top of one of the green bed sheets.

There's a white name tag over the monitoring equipment. It says John King. But, it's really for Jackson Boothe: Someone very close to Sydney's heart. And, on the small tray over it, there's painkillers in a dish and some fresh plastic sheaths of the sexual kind.

The kitchen has a bunch of sketch styled solid colored paintings hanging over the metal counter. They're on wooden clips, as though they all just came out of a darkroom.

One is of a reddish whirlpool, with a cryogenic chamber like coffin spiraling down with a glowing dark blue mind with a suit of wiring. Another is of a silvery computer with white wings flying into the sunset.

Max is sitting in one of the comfy chairs. She's in her ripped dark blue sleeveless top with the motorcycle light like yellow strips.

In the seat beside her is a faintly smiling Sydney, in a long sleeved dark blue shirt.

And, further to her right… There's a faintly teary Samantha: In a rosy red T-shirt and a black vest. She holds a silvery remote, with a classic James Bond DVD menu playing on the screen before her.

Max faintly reflects, "damn. And I thought my adolescence as a teenage gene spliced Frankenstein was miserable."

She's teary eyed. But, she's trying not to show it. Because she now knows their story. And, even if Samantha wasn't in the same room…she doesn't want to show it.

Sydney solemnly reasons, "getting through it was tough. What you went through was cruel beyond belief. But, you and the others pulled out of it. And, so did we."

Max faintly smiles back, "also kicked their asses too."

Sounding in better spirits already… Sydney adds, "yep."

Samantha faintly smiles to herself: Even while she has her eyes on the movie.

Max starts asking, "come to think of it…" Sydney wonders, "what?"

Max figures, "how is Mollie?"

Sydney answers, "she's actually doing ok." Max says with relief, "good."

Sydney reveals, "yeah. She called up a demolition team to destroy the place inside out. Treyarch went out of business soon after: After she tipped off Sector Police. All the guys in Treyarch just got arrested." Max says, "nice."

Sydney solemnly says, "with all things considered, I'd say so. She got enough to travel across California and then some. But, she gave the rest away to the military."

Max comments, "a mixed blessing if I ever heard one."

Uncomfortably, Sydney figures, "yeah. Mind if we talk about something else?"

Max faintly assures, "not really." Sydney concludes, "sounds good."

Max then catches sight of the paintings in the kitchen.

She goes over to the kitchen to look more closely: Just because.

She realizes, "did you do these?"

Sydney faintly smiles, "yeah. It started as a way to get my mind off of VR: After the Pulse. Now I just like to." Max says, "nice."

Sydney uneasily asks, "are you just trying to be polite?"

Looking at her very stuck up like… Max remarks, "me? Never."

With some relief, Sydney says, "slight chuckle. You sure are a interesting woman, Max." With a smirk, Max comments, "mostly right on that. Too bad I'm not a lady."

With some amusement… And, without even looking back from the screen… Samantha interjects, "it's ok. Just makes the sex even better."

Sydney and Max get a chuckle out of that.

Max points out though, "still… Thought you wanted time to yourself."

Samantha slightly turns to her. She reasons, "I still kind of do."

A little confused, Max figures, "okay."

Her cellular phone then starts beeping.

As she's picking it up, Max realizes, "well…sounds like his Holiness is in."

Sydney says, "sounds like. See you later." Max goes, "later."

Max starts heading out.

But, as she does… Samantha kind of calls, "Max."

Max pauses at the door. She turns back to her, "yeah?"

Still teary eyed and sounding almost annoyed… Samantha suggests, "I'll call you when I'm more ok. That ok?"

Max reflectively says, "not exactly what I was expecting. But, when I'm not out saving the world? Sure. Whenever." Samantha faintly smiles back, "thanks."

With a faint shrug, Max figures, "just looking out for my neurally revved up peeps. Later, Sam." Samantha adds, "bye."

Max heads out the door.

Not long after… Max is walking past the neon sign: Cellular phone in hand.

Over the phone, she says, "go."

From the other end, in a brown long sleeved shirt… Logan informs her, "hey. Sorry if I'm pulling you away from something. But, we got a lead on what's going on in Canada. Thought you would be interested in going to check it out firsthand."

Like it's so obvious, Max inquires brightly, "when do I leave?"

Logan answers simply, "now. If you're ready."

Max snarkily says, "aren't I always?"

They both faintly chuckle.

Max adds, "so, are we on for tonight?"

Logan voices, "tempting. I'm busy tonight. But, I'll see what I can do for you next time. Office work as a Messiah. You know how it is."

Max says, "yeah. I do. Thanks though."

With a faint smile, Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Max concludes, "later."

Logan figures, "take care." Max figures, "I will."

She hangs up. But, she still has a faint smile on her face as she does.

A few hours later, in the center of Ontario, Canada…

Rain clouds pass over the cold damp streets.

Tens of millions are taking shelter in the city Towers. American, Canadian, European… Even Indian and Middle Eastern runaways have found home here: With help from very concise background checks and invitations from corporate executives.

All the construction robots have been called in. This is in the dire hope of cutting off a damaged section with soldiering arms just as quickly as a guy can set off a bomb.

Some were successful. Some weren't.

The Canadian military are on patrol in bluish metal tanks: With sets of four thick mostly brown robotic arms equipped with laser sights.

Max tumbles off from under one of the robotic arms, ducking into a alley.

She stealthily walks on past some vacant metal houses, in her jet black catsuit.

She stops behind the back of one. She takes out her cellular phone.

And, as soon as the laser sights from the next patrol passes, she calls up someone within Eyes Only. Someone fairly new in the field commander field.

Max bluntly figures, "go."

On the other end, there's a Canadian man with brownish black short hair and a black mustache in a light brown business suit. His name is Andrew Terellik.

In a mostly calm and yet slightly rough voice, Andrew Terellik says, "hello."

Max brings up, "hey. Did you get Caitlin Fairchild through unofficial channels?"

Andrew Terellik informs, "sorry. No such luck." Disappointedly, Max says, "really? Cause there better be a good save the world excuse for not showing up."

Andrew Terellik explains, "there is. Demons with resurrected Brass virus infected refugees. She also said she's sorry she couldn't help. But, that you'd understand."

A little uneasily, Max admits, "yeah. Actually, I do understand."

Andrew Terellik thinks out loud, "I'm sure I don't. But, you're welcome."

Max insists, "it's ok. So…just what is next for gym class today?" Andrew Terellik points out, "actually…it's not so much gym as it is close to theater."

Max figures, "doubtful. Communications have been at a minimal around here for weeks. You really think these suicide bombers are welcoming in more recruits?"

Andrew Terellik answers, "not in the black market. Nothing is minimal there."

Max can't help but ask, "and just how do you know this?"

Andrew Terellik cryptically just says, "I have many friends."

Max highlights, "so you're in Canada's Internal PR, making cash from the power all around while giving us all the party favors. You sure you're not just in it for cash?"

Andrew Terellik reasons, "no. It's so I can sleep better after a good movie."

More sympathetic sounding, Max says, "oh. Sure. No problem."

Awkwardly, Andrew Terellik leaves it at that, "ok then."

Max gets around to asking, "so…about this mission thing?"

A hour or so after…

Max comes to a metal house.

Behind the house is a small looking mostly red plane with a white Ultimate M brand across it: On a privately owned metal landing pad, towering some levels over.

Then again… This really isn't out of the ordinary for a Post-Pulse Canada.

Air couriers are still around. But, because weather planes are so often paid out to give British Columbia and most of Canada sunny skies, the big corporations realized it would be a lot more practical to have air courier planes be a lot smaller.

They're almost as big as biplanes: Largely to avoid crashing into the weather planes. But, they still got expensive nano-transistor run motors and wings.

However… With so many smaller faster planes developed by the same companies that can easily be mistaken for weather plane signals… This has also given a sharp rise to criminal activities along the borders of Canada.

But, Max knows full well that this is the place to come.

For, Andrew Terellik put the word out on the street that she's a wanted fugitive: For only criminals to hear. And, with Krit's help in "correcting a mishandled military report", the CSIS and the military under their authority won't think twice.

So, now she is here: Waiting for the door to open, as she was told to do.

And, as the rain starts to fall hard over the metal house… The door finally opens.

She glares straight ahead, "about damn time. You know how bent the weather is?!"

With a voice bordering on icy, a woman at the door answers, "try living with it."

She has fairly long red hair with bright highlights. She wears three layers of mostly black coats in ribbons and a pair of worn blue jeans. And, she's got two silvery black cybernetic arms: With waterproof plating and all.

She goes by the name of Jean Stim.

Max impatiently mutters, "sorry. But, I don't think I'll be sticking around that much. Now, are you gonna let me in or what?"

With a chilling look, Jean Stim says, "might as well. Make yourself comfortable."

Max sharply mutters back, "yeah. Thanks."

She follows her in, who closes the door from behind.

Under the chandeliers of red electronic emergency lights, everything is dimly lit.

Vines with thorns cover the snow white walls.

The floor is made up of metal. And, so are the stairs up: Where Jean Stim's black cat is quietly looking down at everything else.

Jean Stim says upfront, "not just yet. Give over your personal belongings and clothes. Unless you would rather one of us strip search you for wires."

Max goes, "I don't know. Sounds to me like you're this close to pissing me off."

Kind of sarcastic, Jean Stim explains, "we'll give you new clothes. I'm afraid we're not, as Americans would say, "politically correct"."

Max reluctantly gives her crossbow, cable, knife, and cellular phone over to her.

Jean Stim figures, "that's better."

She places the items over on a little metal table in the hall.

Max remarks, "personally, I never cared a hell of a lot for rich people that get bent on making the lives of others miserable just cause they can."

Jean Stim faintly smirks, "same. Just don't get in my way, and we'll be sure to get along just fine." Max adds snarkily, "glad we understand each other then."

And, without another word, she heads up to change: With a fairly short black haired young woman in a brown trench coat named Natalie escorting her to a bathroom.

A guy with a old fashioned cigar in the dark looks up guiltily at them. He has medium blond frontless hair and three layers of mostly black coats in ribbons.

Jean Stim sharply glares back, "don't even think about it, Ray."

All high and stuff, Ray mumbles, "think what, Stimulator Hotness?"

Jean Stim just punches him down…leaving a very nasty purple bruise.

And, as he's coughing violently over himself… She mutters, "you're lucky you're the suicide bomber of the day. How you ever got out of town just hurts the mind."

Over in the next room, several figures in the dark just laugh at him: Even as Jean Stim walks in. And, all her cat is doing is licking his paw: Not at all fazed by any of it.

Meanwhile, down in Seattle…

It's raining hard.

Down a street corner is a bulky gray office building with apartments.

In a apartment is a Star of David styled glass table: Surrounded by dark green walls. And lying invitingly in a nearby rope hammock…is a long dark red haired woman: With a debris colored dress and a pair of red high heels.

There's a knock on the door.

With a surprisingly thick voice, the woman says, "come in."

The door opens. It turns out to be Original Cindy: In her jet black jacket over her mostly dark blue XY chromosomes themed T-shirt.

Original Cindy checks, "hey. You Tara Colka?"

With some amusement, the woman answers, "guilty. I take it you saw my ad?"

She gets to her feet.

Original Cindy outright says, "slight chuckle. Yes. It was the bomb. Name's Original Cindy."

Tara is quick to comment, "interesting name you have."

Original Cindy remarks, "good. Cause there's plenty of interest to go around. Now, are we gonna keep dwelling on us? Or, are we gonna kick it explicit?"

With a faint smile, Tara suggestively says, "I got enough rope for both of us."

Original Cindy smiles back.

A half hour or so later…

Max is now in a dark brown trench coat. She's sitting in Jean Stim's room, across from her on the blizzard themed bedsheets on the bed.

The walls are bulky black and red lined, with submarine styled windows.

A crumpled picture hangs from a hook. It's of her with her medium dark brown haired father, her medium light red haired mother, and her young medium red haired son.

Jean Stim delicately pets her cat: Even with the strength of her cybernetic arms. She purrs a little.

Almost icily, Jean Stim offers, "here."

She hands Max some papers. Some papers with official Canadian seals.

Max comments, "what? Not even a big speech to go with it?"

Jean Stim reveals bluntly, "those are military reports of our activities. I've never been much for speeches." Max reasons offhandedly, "then maybe you should've stuck it out in the black market. Let the politicians go to war over the Going Nowhere thing."

Jean Stim figures, "slight laugh. You really are out of touch with Canadian soil, Alexa. You still don't get it?"

As she's looking through reports… A teary eyed Max says, "no. But, I'm beginning to."

In black and white…

Flashes go by of the two surges of electricity that shot through the Mac Towers.

From floor to floor, screams were shooting out. Everyone was running.

But, just before the second surge came… Three Canadian air courier planes were reeling back up their cable lines: With Ray, Jean Stim, and several other fairly fit GN movement members bringing up overfilled bearskin bags from forced open air vents.

In the present, a short while after…

Back down the steps… Under the emergency lights, and in the next room over…

Natalie is on the black couch, putting together a mostly purple beaded dress.

Sitting beside her is a fairly young man with medium dark purple dyed hair admiring her work. His name is Dick Torson. He wears several black coats in ribbons, and has a purple egg necklace.

A man with black medium hair is sitting in a red cushioned chair, listening on his CD player in the dark to a album from Hot Black called More Explosions! More! But really, it's from fans with too much time on their hands. The man's name is Gregory Jameson. He wears several black coats in ribbons.

Ray is sitting on the floor, looking through a black and reddish indie comic called Boob Empire. Everyone else is sitting on the floor, praying to their respective faiths: All in several black coats in ribbons.

Aside from Jean Stim though… They all look veiny, with somewhat watery eyes.

In the kitchen across the way… Medkits stripped white and red and bearskin bags of food are in the white refrigerator. And, plenty more bearskin bags and plenty of bright white coolers with the Canadian maple leaf on each fill the room.

And, Max is on her cellular phone: Upstairs in the black and red lined bathroom.

With very mixed feelings, Max breaks it down, "these aren't your average terrorists, Logan. It's commerce with bombings."

Over the phone… A fairly stunned Logan says, "I can't imagine."

Max reflects, "I know they're not exactly saints. But, they're just out to get food and medical equipment for the smaller guys. Most of them anyway. Seems Jean Stim might be hiding something."

Logan concludes, "you think she's a double agent?" Max concludes, "maybe. Or, maybe she just gets her kicks on million dollar paychecks."

Logan figures, "still… Be careful."

Max faintly smiles, "thanks." Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Kind of reluctant, Max says, "but that isn't the only reason why I'm calling."

Not sure what else to say, Logan goes, "okay."

Max theorizes, "if they really are just trying to survive… What do you say? Give them one more chance to come around?"

With a hopeful smile, Logan answers, "I'm game."

Max smiles brightly.

A few hours later, as the rain pounds on…

From metal house to metal house… A video bulletin comes across the screens.

Eyes Only announces, "do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Freedom Streaming Video Bulletin. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. And, it's the only free voice over the Canadian border that is willing and able to hear you out. Yes. I'm speaking to you: The Going Nowhere movement."

The Eyes Only bulletin goes on, "you've been struggling for years to survive: For you and your towns against the highest levels of greed in this country. All just to keep their corporate funders happy like little kids. I know most of you want to live with yourselves, and not just survive. And, you can. I know of cities where you can live out the rest of your lives without having to fight for basic human rights, and not even the CSIS will be able to find you. Call off the bombings, and I'll see what I can do."

It cuts out.

Then…a lot of intense arguing ensues.

Tears fall uncontrollably from most of their faces. But, it's more than that.

Jean Stim isn't the only gun for hire that's been backing up the GN movement's movements: So long as they got shares of their own.

Some shoot down their former allies for wanting to quit paying out. Some escape in air courier planes. And some just didn't care: So long as they were paid for the last bombing and begrudgingly let go for their troubles.

With Jean Stim's unit though… That's difficult to say.

One of them considers, "Eyes Only is fairly well known. We should listen to him."

Natalie considers, "a fairly well known freedom activist. But, yes."

Dick Torson reflects solemnly, "I'm not sure if I can live with myself. But, I'll really be damned if I don't try."

Natalie faintly smiles in his direction.

Jean Stim practically shouts, "are you serious?! We're this close to bringing the government to its godforsaken knees. Now you just want to give up?!"

Back in her catsuit… Max cuts in, "cool it, Jean! The CSIS is full of…idiots."

They all suddenly realize Gregory Jameson has wearable coat button bombs all over his jacket: All ticking and flashing red. All while he has a smug grin on his face.

Jean Stim glares straight at him, "what godforsaken game are you playing at?"

Fairly shaken, Ray points out, "no. I don't think he's playing."

Gregory comments, "I'm surprised you can think. And, isn't it obvious? As a double agent of the CSIS, I can say with absolute certainty that we're not all…idiots."

While he's been talking…Max snaps his neck from behind.

He falls down dead: Much to everyone else's stunned relief.

Max snarkily remarks, "consider yourself a…idiot."

With her cat like eyes though… She just realizes ten military tanks are out there, surrounding the place. No doubt directed there by the CSIS just recently.

Max calls out, "go!"

Through the robotic arms's fingers… Lighting pierces through the glass windows.

All gets bright white. Hell itself seems to have frozen solid.

But, in a split second… Max kicks Gregory's bomb rigged body out the window.

Splatters of dark red liquid and exploding microchips decimate a good half of the house…and of the military tanks's scanner readouts.

By the time Max's vision comes back fully… The room is all up in flames.

The air courier plane outside is a flaming wreck.

But, everyone in Jean Stim's unit has escaped out the back.

And, like a swarm of poisonous snakes… A good number of military intelligence soldiers come out of their tanks: In all black and with rifles, like the heart of the CSIS.

One of them calls out threateningly, "don't move, or we'll open fire!"

Over walkie talkie though… Another soldier goes, "what the hell…? Ahhh!"

Not very long ago…

Jean Stim lifts up the back of one of the tanks with her cybernetic arms.

It tumble smashes into several armed tanks…setting them ablaze from within as they double back over their crackling off robotic arms.

Splatters of dark red liquid hit the control rooms…as screams shatter any calm left.

Back with Max…

The first soldier doesn't hesitate. He just orders, "fire!"

Max high jumps into the scorched second floor….as a lot of shots go off.

She runs down the crumpling down level.

Not a shot hits her. But, it sure isn't helping.

Max run jumps through one of the submarine windows from earlier: Shielding her head with her arms as she dive crashes off the exploding metal house.

The rain starts to move out. Debris goes flying.

Max jump kicks off of some…tumble landing hard on a still operational tank.

As she's getting herself back up… She hits on something.

In black and white… Max thinks back to something that was said.

Jean Stim practically shouted, "are you serious?! We're this close to bringing the government to its godforsaken knees. Now you just want to give up?!"

And, a frequent seal on the military reports she gave…was CSIS: Crown and all.

Presently…

Max thinks to herself, "where are you, cyber-bitch?"

Blurs of laser sight lights and lighting shot whiz by, through Max's cat like eyes.

She jumps on a robotic arm and swing kicks down into the nearest one gunning for her. It explodes off into a second tank.

She swings high off into the sky. Blurs of tanks turn to distant blurs of metal lines.

She gets her crossbow out: Aiming for a alley, right above where Jean Stim is running off with her cat. Even with the little blurred dots they seem to be.

As she comes swinging down though… And metal lines become metal walls…

A blur of Jean Stim's fist punching down the same wall comes up ahead.

Seconds after...

Max reactively tumbles back from the debris.

But, by the time she gets back up… Jean Stim is gone.

Max mutters under her breath, "damn."

That night…

Max is up on the Space Needle, looking out to the cold and wet rainy streets.

But, she doesn't care how rainy it is. And, she doesn't care how wet her hair is.

She thinks to herself:

Some big questions…and not much in the way of answers. And, not just with this cyber-bitch calling herself Jean Stim. What kind of bent name is that anyway?

Is it just me…or does Logan sound more concerned than usual?

Guess I'd feel the same if it was the whole X-5 family against cyborgs. But, still.

Still… Deep sigh.

I'm sure she just tried to kill me. Even saw my cable coming.

And, if she isn't part of the ZFA… I should think of running.

As much as I'd kind of hate myself for it… I might not have much choice.

Sniffle. Damn ZFA.

I'm sure as hell not gonna let any more in the family die on me.

My ass hurts a lot already from kicking myself over it. And, I'm not gonna have much ass left if it happens all over again.

But, one way or another… I'm bringing hell with me.

Cause on the wrong side of the wall…it's what I am. A dark angel.


	12. Episode 12: Catz and Dogz

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 12:

A few days later…

It's a cloudy day over Seattle…and over the best known skating rink around.

It has red and green swirled almost Mayan temple styled graffiti over its many ramps, plenty of trees on one side behind a fence…and a relic of a amusement park.

No one wants to tear the amusement park down, because the cranky old former millionaire who owned the place made his own bed there: In legal papers and all.

Some even try to stunt ride the park's rusty old roller coaster track at night: If they can get past the yellow tape around it without Sector Police catching them.

Right now… The rink is bustling with activity from a lot of guys on bikes.

A lot of them have black and blue jackets on for the weather.

And, among them…Max and Sketchy are taking to the ramps themselves.

Max is in her jet black jacket over her dark blue purplish top with her Ninja painted on it. Sketchy is in his red and white painting like sweatshirt.

With her bike, Max does a high wheelie off a back ramp. And, several feet up, she's going for a 540 backflip. Some wolf whistles and claps are easily heard.

Max comes down on a forward ramp, making it look like anyone can.

Faintly amused, Original Cindy goes, "now that is showing off."

Syl faintly chuckles.

Original Cindy is in black under her black mostly metal studded jacket, with her hair all up in a bun. Syl is in her dark blue army jacket over a dark yellow top.

With his bike, Sketchy does a nose manual touchdown from a 180 tailwind…to high speed off another ramp for a 360 tailwind.

He barely touches down on the next ramp, a little wobbly as he does.

But, he turns it leftward down and circles back around on the pavement to stay on.

Plenty of claps go all around: Present company included.

Sketchy breathes a sigh of relief over the bike.

But, as he looks up, he catches sight of Syl. And, he winks at her.

She smiles at him: Her face a little red. He smiles back.

Then, reality hits. And, he goes to the side to really catch his breath.

Syl is still smiling brightly, "he's good." Original Cindy comments, "Original Cindy is just as surprised as you. But, he sure ain't tripping."

Original Cindy wonders, "so…what's the word on you and Sketchy?"

Syl apologizes awkwardly, "sorry, Original Cindy. I'm not a spiller."

With a slight chuckle, Original Cindy figures, "right. Sketchy would get all emotional." Syl adds, "well…more or less. But, he means well."

Original Cindy remarks, "story of his life for real." They both faintly chuckle.

Original Cindy insists, "but asking serious here. Not even one thing to spill? And, it don't need to be boy related neither."

Syl admits nervously, "well… There is one thing."

With a faint smile, Original Cindy goes, "aiight."

Syl reveals, "even Zack didn't know. But, before he died… I kind of had a crush on him for the longest time."

Original Cindy looks dumbfounded, "you mean that job tripping SOB who almost got Max to go to Canada with him for something he went up and did?"

Syl reflectively voices, "yeah. But, he had his moments too. But… I knew he would never take it well: Me being into him that much. So, I never told him."

Original Cindy says, "hmm. Now that I can believe. But, aren't you all…?"

It suddenly hits Syl, "ohh. Slight laugh. Sorry. I thought Max might've explained it. We may be brothers and sisters. But, we all came from different mothers and donors. It'd be too straight up gross for me if we didn't."

Sounding a little better, Original Cindy figures, "ohh. I hear you now."

Syl solemnly adds, "thanks."

Original Cindy reasons, "no problem. So…does she…?"

Syl answers awkwardly, "umm…yeah. She kind of already suspected though."

Original Cindy comments, "that's my girl, aiight."

After cycling around the bent out park… Max comes to a stop before them.

Max checks, "have either of you seen Logan? He was supposed to be here."

Syl figures, "sorry. Not since yesterday." Original Cindy concludes, "hmm. Either he's spaced, or some SOB got him held up somewhere."

Max adds nervously, "thanks. Later, guys."

She heads off the skating rink on the bike…on the lookout for Logan.

Not long after…

With her cellular phone, Max has called his number twice. But, no answer.

She impatiently stands around in the elevator as it shoots up to Logan's apartment.

She comes out of the elevator…to find it all in shambles. No lights on.

The desk has fallen, over some smashed computers.

The phone receiver cord is torn in half. A black camera stand has been thrown into a smashed Chinese screen. Yellow tape is everywhere. And, some Chinese screens are all torn up…over a lot of splintered wrecked furniture and torn up papers.

Max gasps, "oh god."

She looks about to cry. But, she holds back the urge to as she walks in.

She spots a torn up photo: Right where the phone receiver cord is torn in half.

She bends down to pocket the pieces.

But, then…she hears a low growl.

She looks up to see a dog's face looking at her: All in black sable.

Max tries to talk down, "I don't want to hurt you. But, if you don't back off…"

Then…a thick but calm sounding voice assures her, "down, girl. She's ok."

The dog whines a little and lays down: In the dark corner before the refrigerator.

In black and white… Max thinks back to a certain freckled face among her brothers and sisters: Back when they were all in mostly white beds at Manticore.

Very much stunned… Max asks, "Zane?"

Seconds later… Someone turns on a light.

And, standing in the kitchen…is a kind of familiar freckled face with black medium hair. He wears a greasy gray T-shirt under a thin sleek brown jacket.

Kind of relieved…Max realizes with a faint smile, "Zane."

She pulls him into a tight hug. He hugs her back.

They soon pull apart though.

A little nervous, Zane says, "Max. You don't know how glad I am to see you."

Max faintly figures, "no. But, I'm beginning to."

Zane faintly sighs. He explains, "it was like this when we both got here. Sydney's out there looking for Mister Eyes Only. I kind of had a run in with her, and she said to tell you. She also said I could stay back. Help make sure no one else can come up."

Max comments, "well, I'm impressed. Really. So…this is your dog?"

Zane faintly smiles, "yeah. She is. Her name's Shane."

He bends down to give Shane a good scratch on the back.

She pants and wags her tail happily at that.

In black and white… Max is thinking back to when her brothers and sisters and her were coming down a corridor: Where the Nomlies were kept.

Lydecker ordered, "get moving, soldiers. No one told you to stop."

As they were marching out though… There was some low growling in the corner.

For, from this dark corner…were two mostly dark looking German Shepherds.

And, back the way they came, there was another corner just like it.

Presently…

Max admits uneasily, "you know…if it wasn't for those days back at Manticore… I wouldn't still be nervous. It's not her."

Zane is already looking up at her.

Calmly certain, he concludes, "then you're a lot alike."

Max faintly smiles at that, "thanks." Zane adds, "sure."

With a hand on her hip… Max focuses back on other things, "there's just one thing that I still don't get about this whole thing."

Standing back up… Zane wonders, "what?"

Max snarkily remarks, "how come I had to nose around to get a in to this party?"

Zane admits, "well…because of more than one thing." Max figures, "okay."

Zane relays more of the message, "Sydney thinks some guys called the ZFA could have tapped into the phone lines. She's arranged for a complete reworking of the phones and phone lines connected to Eyes Only: Even her own."

Max goes over to look out the window: One of the few things that wasn't smashed or broken. And, she sees the storm clouds slowly moving on.

She pieces together, "so I've got the last one. And, she couldn't just call. I understand. But…something tells me this is more than just visiting."

Zane faintly sighs. He thinks out loud, "no. I kind of hoped I could get Eyes Only's help on it too. But…it's about Bane."

Max turns around in mixed relief. She says, "you know where he is?"

Zane nervously clarifies, "I'm not sure what's happened to him. But, getting back into Belarus just to find out won't be easy. It may already be too late. But, he's our brother. And, dead or alive…we should at least try to find him."

Max solemnly agrees, "right. You'll fill me in on the way?"

She's already heading back to the elevator.

A little confused, Zane figures, "sure. But, just how are…?"

Max opens the elevator door. And, she then turns back to him.

She insists, "trust me. I know where a ramjet likely still is. Sydney often leaves it in the hangar to make it easy on herself. But, she won't mind if I steal it: Not for this."

Zane checks nervously, "you sure? I wouldn't want to get in trouble with…"

Max kind of explains, "kind of a long story. But, this bitch is in good with Eyes Only. Now, you coming so we can bail a brother out or what?"

Zane faintly chuckles. He comments, "sure. You never change, do you?"

He and Shane start to get on the elevator. Max reactively stands to his other side.

Max points out, "well…not exactly. Only for some important things."

The elevator door closes behind them, as the elevator starts going down.

A few hours later, up in northern Europe…

The clouds are plentiful and swirled with smog.

But, down on Belarus… It seems far from hellish.

Natural gas and hydroelectric wall like power plants of simple white stand parallel to towering churches of mostly white, gold, and pale orange. Colorful contemporary styled houses, farmland, hotel suites, and castles of all shapes and sizes are every which way. No apartments for miles.

Most people have yellow to orange cybernetic arms or legs: Equipped with guns, grappling hooks, missile launchers...even very dark purple EMP guns as big as pistols.

Some just have government black cellular phones with very limited internet range.

Cars of gray, red, and not much in between speed along the open roads.

With so many complaints of them, sidewalks have just been taken out altogether.

Races have become very popular in recent years: Just behind ice hockey.

The annual grand prize is millions of dollars, and a lifetime supply of food goes to second and third. That is, if anyone else lives to drive across the finish line.

Underground trams with mostly red green lined sides have replaced all public transportation. All the airports are officially non-existent: Except for gray Russian private jets, which come and go through little secret airports.

Although… Most of the people either look very shaky or very confident: In their religious styled dresses, or their torn casual attire of black, red, or white.

Not long before a Pulse hit most of Europe, the government had been completely reformed for the better to much relief of the people. But, then the cries for change started to fade. And, it soon hit this wasn't what they wanted after all.

Most everything has become all too legal: Even murder and brothels.

Contacting any country not allied with Belarus though is punishable by death.

But…that's not even the worse part.

The Belarusian Army in army green is very intimidating: With scanner equipped sunglasses with microchips, and nuclear warhead remotes in their red cybernetic arms.

They may look military. But, they're really bodyguards for crime bosses…or are themselves crime bosses. Whatever they want, they get.

They have become the new police, in a land shaken to the very core.

Past some violent brawls in broad daylight… Past the muffled screams of women and men being dragged off by big guys with cybernetic arms… There's a rich field of grass past a orange farmhouse: With some dark green bushy trees all cluttered together.

Running between the trees is Shane, tail wagging like crazy. And, high up in one of the trees is Max and Zane: With Max now in her black catsuit.

With her cat like eyes…Max is looking out to the center of town for plenty a town.

Max remarks, "you know, this would make for a nice clubhouse."

Zane slightly chuckles, "yeah. Except that's not here. We're just here for recon."

Without turning around, Max nervously adds, "right." Zane inquires, "you ok?"

Max turns back to him. She kind of insists, "it's no one really. Just…thinking."

With consideration in his voice, Zane checks, "want to talk about it?"

Max points out, "not really. But…there might not be a better time anyway."

Zane just calmly says, "ok."

Max reflects openly, "after we kicked Manticore's asses for real… Logan checked us out for implants and genetic defects. Tinga's DNA sample helped with that. Turns out it's all good. That is…except for me having the only now dead implant from Manticore, and mild cases of human-animal DNA degeneration."

A little shaken, Zane realizes, "you mean life expectancy."

Max gets teary eyed. She sadly explains, "none of us know for sure how long we got. Logan's guess though is thirty to forty years. I try not to think on it. But… Sniffle. It still kind of hurts. Not knowing when my seizures go lethal one hundred percent."

Still calm sounding as ever, Zane says, "I'm sorry."

Max wipes away a tear.

She figures, "it's ok. I've made it this far. We all have. I just hope Bane has."

Not long after… She sees Bane's face: On a cellular phone's screen, from a casually walking guy with short brown hair in a torn up red sweater like T-shirt.

He has blond mullet hair, a thin sleek dark yellow jacket, a shiny orange and red striped cybernetic arm, and a sharp glare in his eyes: On a orange poster like banner in small dark purple letters, with Russian, German, and English translations.

A little nervous, Zane wonders, "what?" Max is quick to answer, "got something."

Zane faintly pushes, "ok. What?"

Like it's obvious, Max explains, "off of a phone. He's alive. And, I know where."

Zane faintly smiles, "sure. That's good. But…how can you be so sure?"

Max pinpoints, "it's one of Belarus's national bulletins. He's in the Slash and Sickle tournament. It's going down in Vitebsk. 1900 hours." Zane comments, "not bad."

Looking down… Max figures solemnly, "yeah. I just hope it's enough."

She's holding a taped back together photo as she says it.

It's a photo…of the photo of the ZFA's message in motor oil blood.

On the back is a message in pencil in small writing. It says:

Messed up my own place so you find this. Held in same city. Hurry.

-Love, Logan

In black and white… Max is thinking back to what Logan said on Christmas Eve.

Max had solemnly said, "Canada was protected from the Pulse though, and free for all and crap. It's going to be ok. And, not just for Toni."

A little more than a little shaken… Logan admitted, "I hope you're right."

Presently, after the day gives way to night…

Max and Zane are going down a alley between some dark brown bricked houses.

Shane is silently lying back behind a trash can or two: Keeping watch.

1900 hours is drawing near. And, as it does, Max is thinking to herself:

Sometimes, I look down at all the people. But, more and more… I can't help but think we might have all deserved better.

After the Pulse hit… We were lucky with commerce, while Europe, Australia, and Canada have gone through a hell of a lot worse. Just how broken is the world really?

Although… Faint chuckle.

Seems Bane made some of this broken world work to keep himself alive.

For months, Zane and Bane have been getting close to finding out who set it off.

Then Bane was caught in action, and Zane came to me to help get him out of there.

Me, of all people.

This is more than a X-5 reunion or a rescue.

This is what we're going to find out. And, I'm not sure I'm ready to.

They pass two teenage guys in pulled up white hoodies. One has dark brown medium hair. The other has messy black medium hair. They're making out against a wall: Ready with knives in case someone tries to cut in.

Then… They come across a bright neon blue lined greenhouse store like front: With the Russian words СЕРП И ПОРЕЗАТЬ over the gold studded black metal door.

Max reasons, "so this is it." Zane confirms, "yeah. must be."

He starts sniffing around.

Max doesn't even question it. She just wonders, "what is it?"

Zane reports, "I'm smelling some high concentrations of warm metal and sweat."

Now looking ghostly pale… Max mutters, "oh, god."

A little nervous, Zane questions, "what's wrong?"

Deadly certain, Max suggests, "the ZFA have liquid metal running through them. And, unless you know of any one else who does…" Zane realizes, "damn."

Max solemnly deduces, "yep. We're right at their door, and we can't even call to let them know. For all we know…it might be all up to us."

Around this time, in the Grodno Oblast region…

Most everyone's window shutters are closed. But, they're sleeping fairly well.

But, behind the cobblestone walls of a crudely made castle… That's another story.

Its boxcar styled red towers has ten holding cells, and open archways all around.

They're being heavily guarded by the Belarusian Army.

Every one is full of heavily bruised prisoners in torn up clothes…lined up for the daily capital punishment: All paid for from gangs or army members that want them dead.

The punishment is being dropped into a chasm of lava that goes deep under ground…where the natural gas that's left of their corpses goes back up a special venting system to resupply the country's fuel. The Belarusian Army calls it brilliant.

Not very far away, in a silvery watchtower… There's Logan in a metal chair, in a light blue long sleeved shirt. The pale lit lights are a pain to look at for too long.

And, standing before him is a viciously grinning man. His name is Jones Banner.

He's got medium red hair with yellow highlights, gray metal banded gloves, and a metal band around his head with a yellowish cybernetic eye on it.

Logan tensely says, "I'm not going to ask again. Where is she?"

In a mechanical creepy voice… Jones Banner mutters through clenched teeth, "you know…we really hate westerners. You have no idea how much."

Logan challenges coolly, "then why don't you just kill me then?"

Jones Banner reasons coldly, "cause whenever we attempt to kill your X-5 girlfriend or you… Eyes Only makes it bēngdǎo. But, now you're going to see your dear aunt: As we discussed. And, as long as you do what we say…we will show her mercy."

In memory flashes, of a call from a few days ago…

Logan was in his apartment: At his desk, and on the phone.

Fairly shaken, Logan said, "hey. About damn time you called. Where is she?!"

On the phone, Jones Banner answered, "you will see her soon. Just come with us quietly in two days, and you will. If anyone interferes, we kill them. Get it?"

Very grimly, Logan concluded, "yeah. All too well." He was then bluffing, "ok. But, only if I mess up my apartment. Cause if not, I'm sure my people will be onto you."

Jones Banner pressed, "fine. But, we're checking the apartment before we go. No wánshǒuwàn. Or, your X-5 girlfriend is going to have a very painful night."

He then hung up on him.

Logan grunted furiously to himself as he slammed down the receiver.

Presently…

Jones Banner goes and turns on a mostly silvery red lined flatscreen monitor.

And, as the picture comes into focus… It shows the teary eyed face of Toni Cale.

She has medium dark brown hair with some loose strands over her face.

She's in a holding cell: Shivering and watery eyed in a torn up thick brown coat.

But, even so… She keeps muttering under her breath, "Logan is coming. And, you're all going to regret it."

Logan looks horrified, "oh god. What the hell are you starving her for?!"

Jones Banner concludes harshly, "she's a westerner. But, unlike the others… We're willing to let her go. But, only if you take her place."

Logan grimly realizes, "that's why you kept her alive this long: So I can give myself up willingly to die."

Jones Banner faintly laughs, "now you get it."

While this is going down…

The dimly lit arena is mostly rustic green and lined in yellow. Black cameras stand ready. Trench made sides are left and right, where two rows of dark red benches sit.

Bane is sitting on one, while three Belarusian Army officers stand by on guard.

There's a long black haired woman in a mainly red cheongsam dress by the name of Cai. She is sitting very closely next to him: With a golden island and wind swirls patterned on it. But, he can just hear those faint mechanical whirls coming from her.

She also happens to be the president of Belarus.

With a hand feeling up on his… Cai whispers, "it's time."

In a strong but careful sounding voice, Bane figures, "figures. How many more fights does it take to become fully cybernetic?"

Cai recollects, "if you stay in the mǎshàngbǐwǔ? Two." Bane firmly nods, "right."

As he starts to enter the match though… Max and Zane come in down the stairs.

Max calls out, "you can take off the Halloween mask now, Bane. We're here."

Bane slowly turns around: On the edge of the arena.

With a faint smile to himself, he realizes, "Max. Zane."

Kind of sarcastic, Zane comments, "yeah. Good to see you too."

With a kind of amused smirk, Cai puts together, "oh. So you're acquainted."

Bane mutters, "I also quit. I was buying time and letting off heat: Nothing more."

In a more mechanical voice… A teary eyed Cai creepily sighs, "that's so sad. I thought you might've been on the winning side…and mine. I'll miss our nights together."

Max remarks, "one…ugh! Two, the night is still good to kick your cybernetic ass."

Zane faintly chuckles at the second part.

Cai says determinedly, "no matter. My night may be jiǎndiào. But, with your deaths, the ZFA will be winning very wěi." Max mutters back, "not on our watch."

In a sudden rush of fear… Zane tells her, "get over the side: Now."

Looking confused, Max says, "what?" Zane insists, "just do it!"

They both tumble over the side…just as a hypersonic blast collapses in the trench.

Cai looks furious…as she's left buried under a good few feet of rock.

Her stunned identical twin Kai is standing on the stairs in: With her pulsing orange cybernetic palm giving off some smoke from the hypersonic blast it just fired.

She calls out nervously, "sorry, Cai!"

A little shaken, Max inquires, "how did you…?" A little nervously, Zane explains, "not exactly all of it. I just heard Shane's barking, and assumed the worst."

Max faintly nods, "well, thanks." Zane adds, "sure."

They both soon get to their feet.

Bane faintly sighs, "I'm never going to live this down, am I?"

Without a second thought, Max just figures, "nope."

Meanwhile…

Sydney's ramjet comes over at Mach 3: High over the castle prison.

Samantha is piloting: With help from velcro purple gloves, and her black rimmed sunglasses with the cycling red light. She's in her black vest and a blackish gray T-shirt.

Recently, Sebastian has found and reconfirmed monthly shipments of liquid metal going to Northern Europe. And, Belarus happened to be the second country on the list.

Kind of nervous and shaken all at once… Samantha reports, "we're here."

From the back of the ramjet… Sydney firmly says, "ok. Let's go."

Not long after… Sydney and a team of Eyes Only agents are coming down on mechanically lowering cable lines: Straight for the tower, coming up closer and closer.

Sydney is in her jet black biker jacket over white.

The others are in black catsuits. But, they all got black rubber gloves to grip with.

One has curly long bright red dyed hair and thin silvery hoop earrings. Her name is Amber. Another has medium brown hair and a marble white dove tattoo on the back of her left hand. Her name is Grace.

The third is very built and has medium frontless brown hair. His name is Leith.

Over the turbulence in the wind, Sydney calls out, "now!"

All of them drop tumble down through the open archways up top.

The cable lines start pulling up quick, as they all get out black EMP crossbows.

But, as they start to get on their feet… They soon realize this level has no cells.

Leith mutters, "damnit." Sydney mutters, "yeah. I know."

Amber faintly chuckles, "who cares? Let's just take them."

With backhand holds on their EMP crossbows… Leith, Grace, and Sydney drop fall: Even as a barrage of lasers go firing from the Belarusian Army's cybernetic arms.

Some of them automatically gun for the ramjet. But, it closes its sliding metal trapdoor and takes off before they can get a good hit on it.

Sydney, Leith, and Grace release their grip: Firing EMPs into the second level.

They take out twelve Belarusian Army officers before they can aim. The cells on this level get their electronic locks fried: Along with the lights…and every other cell.

Eight prisoners don't think twice of running the hell out. Some even rip off cybernetic arms in the dark to fire lasers to clear the way in the midst of the screaming.

But…Sydney, Leith, and Grace end up almost falling to their deaths.

They're holding onto the edge with their left or right, while their other hands are still holding their EMP crossbows. Amber though…is still up there.

She roll tumble kicks into two Belarusian Army officers while charging up her EMP crossbow. They go flying to their deaths: Screaming all the way down.

Amber then slams her heel into another screaming officer's foot…just before tumble flip kicking into his chest. A trail of dark red liquid goes flying off.

With a smirk, Amber calls out hotly, "come on! Is that the best you got?"

As she's about to fire though… Several officers fire lasers into her.

She screams…as she burns up.

Her EMP crossbow overloads: Becoming one big fireball drawn from electric sparks coming from the cybernetic arms left on the officers left up top. They all burn up.

After a round of exhaustive grunts, Sydney, Grace, and Leith pull themselves up.

With a faint sigh of relief, Grace voices uneasily, "good plan. But, how about we don't do that…again?" Sydney reasons, "sure. But… What's wrong?"

With teary eyed realization, Grace asks, "where's Amber? And, where's…?"

They both turn to the nearby stairs. And, there now…is a Belarusian army officer that has just claw swung his way down one of the archways.

He's got burned off rubber skin over his face and arms. Liquid metal and dark red liquid is gradually dripping off from the hints of surgically broken bones and electro-servo motors. But, the metal vibro-claws in his cybernetic hands have come out.

In a mechanical creepy voice… The ZFA cyborg mutters, "are you ready to die?"

Sydney pulls back on her EMP crossbow to fire. But…the ZFA cyborg is faster.

He backhand punches Grace away, knocking her violently into a arch.

He tears right through the EMP crossbow: His claws faintly drawing out dark red liquid before Sydney's terrified face.

But, in the last second… Leith angrily tackles him against the floor.

Sydney gasps with much needed relief…as she checks if she's even still breathing.

Faint dark red liquid is around her neck. But, it's only a flesh wound.

But, by then… The ZFA cyborg is standing over Leith's dead body.

In the dark… A teary eyed Sydney sees hints of a splatter of dark red liquid.

She also sees the cyborg coming right for Grace…as she's just getting up.

Sydney cries out, "no!"

She picks up a nearly full discharged electromagnetic rod from the floor…and slams it right into the screaming ZFA cyborg's face.

With its motors exposed there… All it takes is one spark to blow it up to hell.

Sydney ducks…as brief flashes of splattering motor oil and dark red liquid go by.

Teary eyed, Grace gasps, "oh god."

Sydney very uneasily says, "I know. As soon as we find Toni, we're getting out."

She starts her way down the steps. But…she pauses briefly to look back to Grace.

Grace solemnly nods, "ok. Just…give me a minute." Sydney concludes, "sure."

Meanwhile, back before the arena…

The song Ne Ver Ne Boysia Ne Prosi by t.A.T.u begins to play overhead.

Bane's would be opponent is walking towards them. She goes by Machettel.

She has long dark blond hair, red machete wrist blades, and a dark green bodysuit.

Having overheard some things… Machettel eerily smirks, "good. If I go kill you especially…then the ZFA will have to have a place for me."

Max comments lowly, "your mistake."

Kai fires several hypersonic blasts at Bane and Zane…as she's whirling for them.

Bane fires up the flamethrower in his cybernetic arm into a good chunk of ceiling.

A lot of debris falls in the way of the blasts: Shattering into dust clouds.

Kai is coughing up dust. And much to her frustration, she can't see a thing.

One of the blasts though makes a huge dust cloud out of the center of the arena.

Bane is left clutching his side from the fallout: As dark red liquid is dripping down it.

Machettel jump spin charges for Max.

Max high jump kicks off of the side of one of her wrist blades: Snapping it off.

It deflects off of the other. But, Max catches it as she tumble lands on the ground.

With a angry cry, Machettel charges again: Now on her feet as well.

Max deflects some swings of the wrist blade: Just before spin kicking her out cold.

She goes crash landing into a sparking off camera.

Up the stairs… The door gets shot open.

And, behind it is a somewhat exhausted Syl: Ready with a rifle.

In the dust… She calls out, "Bane?! Zane?!"

Zane answers, "we're here. But, giving us more cover would be good."

Him and Bane run out of what's left of the door.

Syl faintly nods, "right. You coming, Max?"

In the dust though… Max notices something in the corner of her eye.

It's a dark red screened black pager: Full of cycling through visual memory data.

Max figures, "almost home."

Max walks over to the pager in the bleacher wreckage.

She faintly smiles to herself, "looks like a neural network of some kind. Shame if anything were to happen to it."

She stabs the pager with her knife: Letting it spark off into flames.

Around this time, before a certain cell…

Still shivering and on her knees… Toni Cale looks up, "who…are you?"

Trying to look calm… Sydney explains simply, "I'm a friend of Logan. We're going to get you out now. Get you some good food and water. Ok?"

As Sydney helps her up… Toni Cale faintly nods. She whispers, "thank you."

Sydney faintly smiles, "you can thank me when we're out. Come on."

Around this time, in the watchtower…

Jones Banner practically shouts, "what?!"

With a faint smirk, Logan remarks, "well then, I guess you don't have the best security in the world after all."

Jones Banner mutters coldly, "no matter. We're flexible."

He lifts a fairly spooked Logan up by his collar: Even with his struggling.

Then, though… Jones Banner interestingly starts getting a massive headache.

He reactively clutches his head: Letting Logan go.

Logan runs like hell: Before Jones Banner can get a grip long enough to charge.

He goes straight for the ladder. But, Logan is already a good distance away.

Jones Banner mutters to himself, "damnit."

Back before the arena…

Kai is also left clutching her head: Leaving a opening Syl is all too happy to hit.

She fires into Kai's head. And, amazingly…it works.

Without reflex… Kai falls over dead: In a splatter of motor oil and dark red liquid.

As she passes Syl… Max faintly chuckles, "nice."

With a faint smile, Syl adds, "thanks."

They both head out, as the dust finally settles.

But…what Max didn't notice are two hands coming out of the wreckage.

A now no longer dazed Cai pulls herself out: Not knowing what she'll soon find out from looking through Kai's pager.

Not long after…

Syl, Zane, Bane, and Max are making it down the alley.

But… Bane suddenly stops: Down a alley two blocks off.

Syl catches up to him. And, Zane and Max aren't far behind.

Syl questions worriedly, "what's wrong?"

Still clutching his side… Bane grimly realizes, "I…can't go on. Violent cough!"

Dark red liquid is briefly seen seeping through his jacket, as he lies against a wall.

His cat like vision is fading out fast.

Zane and Max rush over.

Syl looks teary eyed: Not sure what else to say.

And, as they're all bending down before Bane… A teary eyed Zane and a teary eyed Max mostly feel the same way.

Bane mumbles, "take care of each other while…violent cough…I'm gone."

Zane faintly assures, "it's ok. We always have." Max solemnly says, "always."

Bane tries to finish, "but… I have to tell you. Before… Violent cough!"

Max urges, "ok. Tell us."

Bane reveals, "the ZFA…responsible…violent cough…for the Pulse."

His eyes then fade of color…as he slumps over dead.

Zane closes his eyes.

And, as much as it kills him to have to do it… He gets Bane's body over his shoulders so they can bury him back home.

Very nervously, Zane points out, "we should go." Max and Syl silently agree.

They follow him out without another word…on to brighter and darker days ahead.

A few weeks later, in a park in Seattle…

It's the middle of the night. Most of the gray park benches are empty.

And, on one of them…is Max sitting next to Zane: With Shane lying in her lap.

She's very content and quiet as Max keeps gently petting her: Occasionally rubbing against her hand and lightly mouthing on her fingers.

In her jet black jacket, Max faintly says, "I have to admit. This has been nice."

In his thin sleek brown jacket, Zane faintly smiles back, "sure."

Max inquires, "so, how do I get her off?"

Zane lightly comments, "what? Too much togetherness for you?"

Max admits, "it's not like that. This bitch is just not always in the mood for it."

Zane suggests, "well… You can just lift her up then. It's what I do."

Max faintly reflects, "if only if it were that easy to save the less fortunate."

Zane figures solemnly, "like Bane?"

Max somberly adds, "yeah. But, cash goes around. So do we in a broken world."

She then starts to lift Shane: Which she finds to be harder than it looks.

She barely manages to put her back down on the ground with her strength: Before she kind of collapses back down against the bench.

As she's stopping to catch her breath… Max remarks, "you were saying?"

Zane faintly chuckles, "ok. Fair enough." Max figures, "damn straight it is."

Zane highlights, "but we can always be strong by trying: In here or out here."

With a faint smile, Max concludes, "you're sure as hell stronger than you appear."

Zane faintly acknowledges, "thanks."

Max reasons, "sure. Now…I'm just hoping we can be strong enough for the war."

Zane concludes fairly confidently, "we got through one war. We just have to try."

Sounding somewhat more assured now… Max solemnly nods, "ok."


	13. Episode 13: Mirror Monsters

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 13:

A month later…

It's the middle of the night down in Seattle.

Not far away from a silvery warehouse… There's Max and Tinga: Coming to the metal fence, on Max's motorcycle.

Max is in a gray top. Tinga is in her sleek dark red jacket, and a sweater like dark orange top.

Tinga checks, "you sure this is the place?" Max faintly comments, "yeah. He gets his fighting on here almost every other night."

They both get off the motorcycle. And, they head through the fence's gate.

But, just as Tinga and Max are heading through… Max sharply realizes there's only one window with a light. All the other windows are dark.

As they head further in… Tinga wonders, "you think he knows?"

Sounding a little distracted, Max inquires, "knows what?"

Tinga outright says, "about Manticore."

Max quickly explains, "no. He asked once though."

Kind of uneasily, Tinga inquires, "so what stopped you?"

She pauses on the pavement: Between them and the warehouse.

Max moderately sighs reflectively, "he may be a big Kamen Rider fan. Also a scientology fan in a big way. But…I don't think he's ready to hear it. Maybe someday. But, not tonight."

Tinga faintly nods.

She figures, "don't know what kind of trick rider that is. But, I feel you."

With some faint amusement, Max says, "sure. Ready to meet one?"

Tinga figures, "yeah."

Max adds snarkily, "good. Cause you're not bailing on me."

Tinga concludes firmly, "wouldn't think of it."

They start to make their way to the front door of the warehouse.

Tinga offhandedly suggests, "so…when are you thinking of getting one of those computer boxes?" Max faintly laughs, "nice try. But, try never."

Tinga looks more than a little confused at her, "from what I know of you, that's talking weird."

She faintly smiles in recollection, "when we were kids, you were fascinated by security cameras and walkie talkies. Hell, it used to drive us crazy: All the times you tried to take them apart before the guards beat on you. But, you didn't care…because you already took it apart before they stopped you."

Max chuckles at that, "you're right. And, I'm sure they're special boxes for a lot of good guys and girls. But, personally… I prefer something more hands on. Bigger screens. Bigger gloves."

Tinga solemnly says, "yeah. That's ok. I'm saving the guns for those cybernetic freaks…and anyone else that tries to come after our families. But, we all got our own ways to chill. You know?"

Kind of confidently, Max comments, "damn straight I know. But, we're going to kick their asses someday: All of us."

Tinga faintly smiles, "thanks."

With held back uncertainty, Max adds, "sure. Now, are we just gonna stand around or are we going to go in?" Tinga answers confidently, "sounds good to me."

They come into the warehouse…only to find there's no one here.

There's only one candle lit, and it's down to its last chunk of candle wax. The rest are melted away and turned into dried up candle wax.

A trail of faded dark red liquid is from the back.

But, what really catches Max's attention is a piece of paper.

She bends down to pick it up.

It says:

Sorry to leave you so suddenly.

But, I need to go back into the front lines to face my reactive mind.

And, if I don't do it alone…then it's bad for my Thetan.

I know you very likely are going to want to fight on the front lines with me. And, there's nothing wrong with that. But, this is something I have to do alone.

Don't try to follow me. Please.

-Devrom

Faintly teary eyed, Max thinks to herself, "you idiot. You could have just told me you wanted to be alone on a spirit thing. But, no. You just bailed, leaving us worried!"

At the same time, she ends up crumpling the paper into a ball in her hand.

Tinga looks nervously around, "what happened here?"

Max throws the paper back on the ground. And, she starts getting up.

She uncertainly figures, "not sure. But…I'm getting a weird feeling it has something to do with this wall."

With her cat like eyes, she sees a few planks of wall slightly bulging out.

Max pulls away a plank of wall to find a dark alcove. And, in the darkness…she sees someone's limp heavily bruised arm.

She pulls away the two around it. And, much to her disgust and unease… A dead corpse is revealed back there: Smelling of ashes, rock, and not so fresh river water.

More than a little shaken… Tinga says, "looks like you were right."

Several hours after, into the next day…

The sun is faintly rising over the riverbed: A very long winding river bed, with thunderstruck trees in half and spiny trees with three leaves on their branches.

In black catsuits… Max and Tinga make their way along the river: Looking for anything unusual.

They spot a algae covered very faint blue storm shelter door: In the bottom of the river, with hundreds more further up river.

And, as they swim for it… Max is thinking to herself:

Out of all the states we got… This is the last place I'd thought I'd end up.

In a few years after the Pulse… The Midwest was all washed up. Just like that.

Sniffle.

No cops, bodyguards, or rich guys came to bail out any one, cause the Pulse had got them all rebuilding what was left of home.

Most guys here were fighting the good fight: Just trying to get by and make some commerce like any one else. But…the storms were very unforgiving.

With the Red River Flood of 2009, the Deep South Flood of 2009, and the constant flooding after… No one was believed to survive.

Hell, they put down all their fighting just for survival. But, it wasn't enough.

Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan had enough floodgates to hold it off.

But, they weren't in Tornado Alley: At least from what I hear. Lucky them.

But, from the look of things… Maybe it wasn't all for nothing.

Maybe there were a lot more survivors than any one thought.

One thing is for sure though. With Dr. Shaknar's assistance… Logan traced faint radiation from the dead guy's cell phone, and that's how we got up here.

Now we're going into the Mississippi Mega River…hoping we're not too late to save a friend. He may be kind of a idiot. But, he's still a friend.

Some time later…

At first, it seemed quiet. Dark. Abandoned.

With Max's cat like eyes… It looked like they just found a storm shelter.

Mostly concrete. Nothing left: Not even a corpse.

Max and Tinga find a gray concrete crafted door, with metal gears, springs, and metal hinges all around it. Jagged rocks and unswept dust surround it.

But, after the first room… The fire crackles.

The door swings open with a mere tap.

It leads to caverns far and wide, where metal warehouses are houses in a underground network of cities.

They have no roofs: Only the caverns to be the roof, and stalactites to be the carved in signposts.

Campfires have been lighting the way, lit with coal.

They search and search. But… All they find are locked double metal safes with medical coolant packs fed in for refrigerators, and some empty metal shelves.

Max faintly sighs, "nothing."

From the next warehouse over… Tinga checks, "you sure?"

Max firmly says, "yeah. Let's keep looking."

She closes the door on one of them.

And, with a faint smile…she's thinking to herself, "if only I had time to try to crack those safes. Might be just to see what's inside. But, still: It's hard not to."

As they walk further in though… The fire is getting all too bright.

Several very sweaty soldiers in worn and torn army green are against a cave wall, trying to catch their breath while clutching their dark red liquid dripping sides.

Fire has swept through a city, and the semi-melted warehouses from the inside out.

The last door bursts into flames…as gunshots creepily echo on.

In a kind of deep accent, one of the soldiers calls out, "fire! Fire until they're good and dead!"

The soldiers keep firing their gray metal shotguns, with rock carved bullets flying into some shadow monsters with tentacle mouths in the distance.

One of them goes down in the flames, screaming.

The other two shoot down the first soldier, while the remaining two run for it.

They're still hunched over as they duck behind a warehouse.

The second soldier wonders grimly, "how much ammo have you got?"

The first soldier faintly laughs, much to the other soldier's confusion.

He finds his shotgun is empty. But, he just scoops up some jagged rocks and loads them in by hand with his gloved hand.

The first soldier comments, "plenty to go around here, man. Plenty to go around. Because, I sure as hell am not planning on dying any time soon."

The second soldier faintly laughs at that.

In the midst of all of this… Tinga signals to Max.

They move for their position.

Shots ring out.

But, seconds before Max and Tinga get there… A grenade explodes over the warehouse…bursting the already burning warehouse apart from impact alone.

Tinga calls out to Max, "move back!"

They run for it: With Max running off the cave wall, and Tinga running along it.

They both end up dazed and knocked back by the fallout of dust.

But, after several long minutes… The dust clears.

Max and Tinga violently groan as they come to. But, the two soldiers didn't make it out.

Max checks, "you ok?" Tinga faintly nods, "when we get out of here, I will be."

As she starts to get up, Max solemnly says, "fair enough."

For, thanks to her parallel processing… She got a glimpse of the shadows.

But, they weren't just shadows or monsters.

They're soldiers of another city altogether, with very similar half burnt uniforms, very similar shotguns, a lot of sweat…and most of them with watery eyes.

Meanwhile, back in Seattle…

By now, Logan's apartment is all retouched and restored: Almost like a mansion.

Anin is sitting on the couch: In her yellow tinted white sweater like dress, and with some hints of nervousness on her face.

Interestingly… Logan says, "it's all ready for you, Miss Janel. I set you up with a basic profile. So, more sensitive information would require my codes and passwords."

He's getting up from his desk: In a verdigris long sleeved shirt.

Anin walks over hurriedly: Almost like she was waiting in line for something.

Mostly in Spanish, she nervously concludes, "thank you, Mister Cale. But, I wouldn't think I would want that kind of information."

Logan casually suggests, "well, if you need any help, you just have to ask."

Anin faintly smiles, "thank you. I shall." Logan solemnly adds, "you're welcome."

He goes over to the couch: Picking up his computer box on the way so he can do his Eyes Only work on it while Anin is on the main computer.

A faintly familiar satellite program is up and running on both the left monitor and the main one: With faint blue boxes around blurry bright and colorful satellite feeds, and a mostly blue satellite over a rotating 32 bit Earth in the backdrop.

The main one though has a mostly black dark blue rimmed search box.

After finally getting the courage to do so… Anin is borrowing Logan's main computer to look for who may still be alive from the past she walked away from.

But, behind her faint smile… She's still very nervous.

In black and white… Anin is thinking back to her life in Mexico.

She was born in a poor neighborhood. And, her sensitive side didn't help matters.

She was the only child in her immediate family: Which was rare to happen in Mexico. But, her would be brother died from being preterm weeks after being born.

Anin mostly kept to herself, fearing she was next to die if she wasn't extremely careful. But, she also feared the same for her long black haired mother, her medium mostly black haired father with some gray hairs, and the few best friends she had.

Her parents tried and tried to get Anin to go to church more.

But, as she grew more and more, she grew to resist it more: Going so far as running away for days at age thirteen just to avoid being pushed to a breaking point.

Her mother became embittered by this. Her father was torn by loyalty to both.

And, when they came into Anin's room to tell her they're going to pay for her to go to high school… Anin screamed, "no! I won't let you do that to yourselves."

It wasn't out of rebellion though.

It was out of not wanting her parents to suffer because of paying for her at the cost of them not living well…and very likely slowly killing themselves because of it.

And yet… Her mother almost beat her to death: Tired of her running, and desperate for a way to stop her from "disgracing their most sacred traditions".

She was dying inside. But, she was hoping God can forgive her for this great sin.

Not long after going to her Junior High graduation… Anin ran for good.

The whole town regarded her as a outcast: Not knowing what really happened.

Presently…

Anin thinks of looking for her parents out of instinct: Not remembering much other names from her past. But, just thinking about it is getting her teary eyed.

She instead looks for her Junior High school.

After finding several aged class pictures, she searches for a name that resurfaces in her memory: Adriano Olmos. One of her few best friends from Junior High.

It instantly turns up with a mostly black dark blue rimmed window.

In it is a blurry mostly bright orange book icon.

She clicks on it, and a much bigger scrollable window appears over it.

It shows a fairly recently published book…written by Adriano Olmos.

It's titled My Date with Miss Corruption: With big red letters against a mostly orange bricked street corner. Also on the cover is a running shadow…and a grinning medium very dark brown haired woman in a red dress with big devilish teeth armed on it.

It's a dark fantasy romantic thriller, about a guy dating a priestess…who turns out to be a demon cult worshipper who doubles as a CEO for a fast food chain called Infierno's Autopista in a fictional town called New Mecinano.

The TV reports are all to the side in little moving TV sets: Mostly with women reporters with semi-traditional black and white dresses.

And, as she's lightly glancing through them one by one… Anin smiles.

It turns out Andriano got enough money to build his own printing press to publish this book by hand, knowing full well most any corporation might change it.

Before any corporation could stop him, thousands have already gotten a copy and read it. And, most of the reporters sound kind of disturbed under their calm demeanors.

Some are actually praising the book for its not so subtle hints at the corruption in Post-Pulse Mexican media. Some are downright offended it even exists.

With some noticeable nervousness… A male reporter with medium black hair reports, "but, what really hits hard for us hard working people is that some of the Bullforce and the Guardians of Virginity are investigating around for corruption. The animation studio for Batman: The Killing Joke is said to be first on the list…which means this will be my last broadcast. And, now for the weather."

With some mixed feelings and tears… Anin then deeply sighs.

She's thinking to herself, "I haven't stopped hating my parents. But…I would hate not knowing what happened to them."

She searches for her parents.

But, much to her mixed relief… It wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.

A criminal dossier from the Bullforce appears: Spread out over two windows.

Her mother had committed suicide…a year after Anin ran away for good.

From her father's own shaken account, it turns out she was too overcome by guilt to keep on living. And, she confessed why…just before shooting herself in the head.

In a follow up interrogation with the Bullforce… Her father said he was planning to move to Spain to get away and start over. After that though…it's anyone's guess.

In spite of the mixed feelings… Anin faintly smiles: Now coming at peace with it.

A hour later, back in the Midwestern caverns…

Max and Tinga have gone a lot further in.

More abandoned cities. More cities in flames over the ashes of the dead.

But, for all the marching on soldiers, cattle, horses, sheriffs and priests in mostly black and white clothes, and their wives and husbands in sheepskin clothing they pass by… They look too shaken for words behind teary eyes, or too quick to draw a shotgun.

Some have been going back to put out the fires with a water brigade.

Most of them are heading back to the scattered military bunkers further down: Being repurposed as metal campgrounds for millions of people. They have grids of brown to red sleeping bags, and clothes made out of leather and sheepskin.

Some are on cell phones: Which have surprisingly lasted since 2009 or 2010. Some are listening to their mostly wooden looking jukebox like portable radios.

But, none of it can really take away the pain.

And even Max, who's usually quick to act, knows going up and talking to them is a bad idea.

So now… Max has been opening all the safes she can in the past half hour: Desperate for answers about what the hell is going on.

But, all she finds are half empty stocks of ice packs and produce.

That is, until they come across what's left of a scorched city.

Frustratedly, Max sighs against a cave wall, "nothing. Where the hell is he?!"

Tinga urges optimistically, "calm down, baby sister. He's close. I know it."

Max looks skeptical, "how?"

Tinga fast walks over to a big pile of wreckage, full of burnt books and fried cells.

She tears through it easy: With the little holes in her gloves, where her genetically thicker boned fingers and fingernails very faintly can stick out.

Under this pile…is a very familiar silvery Kamen Rider Henshin belt.

And, wearing it…is a still fairly dazed Devrom: In his jet black jacket and all.

Max realizes nervously, "fair point." Tinga faintly smiles, "yeah. Anytime."

Max rushes over to Devrom, bending before him as he's coming to.

She asks, "you ok?"

After some violent coughing… Devrom faintly nods, "not really. But, I can live."

Max coldly voices, "yeah. Okay. Then what you were thinking: Leaving us worried and almost getting yourself killed?!"

As he dusts himself off and gets up… Devrom nervously admits, "I'm used to being a lone trooper. I figured it would be for the best. But…maybe it really isn't."

Max comments, "damn straight it isn't."

She's suddenly shaking, finding it hard to sit still.

She mutters to herself, "oh, god. Not now!"

Devrom asks in concern, "what is it?"

Tinga somewhat assures, "she'll be ok. She just needs medicine."

She takes out her own bottle of Tryptophan from under her catsuit.

She offers it to Max. But, Max lightly pushes her hand away.

Max faintly insists, "thanks, Tinga. But, it's not like that right now. It's what's coming that I'm kicking myself over." Tinga looks a little confused, "ok."

Max highlights uneasily, "we're more than ten miles under, while fires already don't leave much for air. Do I really have to break it down for you with science class?"

Tinga firmly figures, "no. But, Devrom might."

Devrom reasons, "that would be nice. Yes."

Max moderately sighs, "guess you're right. But, it's not a good time now."

Devrom realizes, "good point. But… Maybe it would be a good time to tell you what painful memories brought me here so you can understand why."

A little caught off guard, Max wonders, "you sure? Cause on and off the front lines… I got to be honest. I am kind of a bitch. I've just been getting all pissy that you didn't tell me you wanted to go on a spirit thing instead of leaving just a crappy shot note and a dead body. You don't owe me as much as you think."

Tinga faintly smiles to herself.

With a faint smile, Devrom surmises, "I understand. But, it's all right. I'm finding it'd be better for my Thetan and the war to tell." Max figures sympathetically, "ok."

Somewhat calmly, Devrom continues, "that body…wasn't meant to be found. I found him floating in a river. I tried to save him. But, he was already dying."

In black and white… Devrom was thinking to that point in time…on a river bank.

He was putting pressure on the guy's chest: Hoping to get him breathing again.

His pulses were getting fainter. But, it was enough for him to cough out a bunch of dark and probably red liquid. It spread all over Devrom's jacket. But, he didn't care then.

The guy's dying words were this:

Probert…running from evil…in Nebraska…save him.

Presently…

Devrom reveals, "I hid the body because I didn't want the Sector Police to get the wrong idea. I tried to clean it up. But, it looks like I didn't do it good enough."

Even while nervously shaking against her knees… Max adds, "looks like."

Tinga uneasily questions, "okay. I'm sort of lost here. What is this war about? And, what does a dying guy have to do with it?"

Not so calmly, Devrom reasons, "I don't know completely what it's about. I wish I did. But…that man said my brother was running from evil: Before he died. It's why I came and found these caverns. It's also why I know who likely started all these fires."

Max goes wide eyed. She inquires, "you do? Then…who went and did it?"

Devrom explains further, "before I found these caverns… I looked ahead: Further up river on motorboat. I found a cruise ship. No question it's from the Church of Scientology. The ship left last night. Still… With no one else having come out of these caverns for years, they don't think any one's going to come looking for them."

Max sarcastically mutters, "great. They're out playing cat and mouse with fire, I'm about to turn back into a lemon, and we're suddenly right back where we started."

Interestingly, Devrom figures, "not really. When they caught me seeing them…they brought down the library on me. But, it's not all I saw. They were gold plated or something. And, with how easy gold can melt in fire… We can follow the trail to them. We'd just need a piece of glass to see it."

Max faintly smirks, "no need. I got good vision. For now, anyway."

With her cat like eyes, she catches sight of some drops of gold amongst the ashes.

After catching her breath… Max nervously thinks out loud, "I don't know what I'm going to be like when we find them. So, if you want to just go on ahead…I'll understand. Wouldn't want to slow you down or anything."

Standing before her… Tinga insists glaringly, "no way in hell. You're coming, even if I have to carry you and find cover. Who knows how many more soldiers and freaks are shooting on sight here?"

All the while, Devrom is nervously standing around.

Kind of embarrassed, Max faintly admits, "thanks. I needed that."

She then shakily gets to her feet: Grabbing a good chunk of wreckage to help herself up.

She then says determinedly, "let's go."

Devrom points out, "that's all good and everything. But, can you walk?"

Max faintly nods, "yeah. But, I plan to do more than that."

Fairly confused, Tinga questions, "Max?"

Max remarks, "you heard me. Just grab the best metal planks you can, and I'll make do. Cause, I'm sure as hell not going to let seizures kick me on my ass like this."

Tinga faintly chuckles, "you never change." Max comments back, "not exactly. But, later."

Tinga and Devrom start walking along the trail…with Max leading them deeper into the dark.

Too shaky to turn much… Max can't help but wonder, "so…what's your brother like?"

Tinga starts to nervously say, "Max, I don't think this is…" With a bittersweet smile, Devrom insists, "it's all right, Tinga. It's what I figured on telling sooner or later."

Max figures, "then go."

As they continue on…

In black and white… Devrom is thinking back to when the Pulse hit.

He was in his late teens.

He also liked alcohol a great deal: Skipping school, and drunk out of his mind.

He ran away from home: Trying to get away from his problems.

Waves of immigration and violence hit the country shortly after.

Devrom realized too little too late running was a mistake.

When he got back… There was nothing left of his house.

Ashes and burning down walls were all that was left of his parents.

But, when Devrom cleared the debris… He found his younger brother.

He was unconscious with moderate burns. But, he was alive.

At first, Devrom took this as a divine miracle: Out of being amazingly spared from death along with his brother in the wake of the Pulse.

After medically treating him with his own two hands and a mostly light colored discarded medkit, they went out together in search of new hope in life.

Along the way, Devrom found a mostly gray haired Free Zone Scientologist.

He wore light pants and a light long sleeved shirt with a blocky spaceship on it.

He greatly helped them find the hope they sought.

But… After several months in his care… Devrom decided to go looking for answers for himself: Much to Probert's confusion.

He said, "I…don't understand. We're the only family we got now. Isn't that enough?"

A teary eyed Devrom though just couldn't bring himself to tell him why.

He was drinking down a bottle of alcohol as he walked away into the night.

It turned out he was full of too much guilt to stay…because of thinking he just let their parents and his girlfriend die that day. And, that it would be better for his brother to remain innocent: Under the care of his new Scientologist friend.

Presently…

The trail leads through a mine shaft, and into the wreckage of a burnt down town.

It had a lot of rock, concrete, and metal processing factories: Used to restock rock carved bullets, carvings, and material for building metal houses from as far back as 2010.

Now there's two mostly yellow jackhammers, and a little metal hut up ahead. A campfire illuminates the sparkly drops of gold…circling around the place like magnified tree rings.

Max, Tinga, and Devrom are on the sides of the dimly lit shaft, standing ready to go in.

Max is using some solid metal beams as crude walking sticks: Holding onto them tightly on either side as she's fighting her burning impulse to crouch down with every step. She groans violently against them. But, she steadily gets ready to press on anyway.

Devrom checks very nervously, "you all right?"

Dizzily… Max mutters back, "not…exactly. Violent groan. But, it's all good."

Devrom admits openly, "I still don't really understand. But, if you can still fight, I'll believe it."

Max faintly chuckles, "well, believe it."

With a violent groan… She adds to Tinga, "Some visit, isn't it?"

Tinga concludes, "yeah. Maybe. But, I'm glad I came to get your back."

Max firmly adds, "same. Now, let's kick these guys's golden asses before I start to hork."

Tinga and Devrom go first. But, Max is walking fairly well: Even in her current condition.

Hearing footsteps… Two mostly medium black haired guys come out from the other side of the door: With liquid gold infused bodies, some reddish boils over their arms and upper legs, and some visible dark red implants in their heads to pour in more gold to keep "their natural abilities" going.

Past them is Probert. He has fairly short light brown hair, some sheepskin clothes, and is veiny and watery eyed from lack of enough water or sleep.

He's also tied up and wrapped in bubble wrap in a metal chair with matches…very much terrified of the white and black ghosts laughing at him in his state of mind.

Knowing who the enemy is… Tinga instantly shoots her two pistols at the golden guys.

They bend over, clutching their arms in surprisingly slight piercing pain.

One of them calls out, "who are you people?!"

Tinga calls to Devrom, "go!"

Devrom faintly nods as he goes on into the hut.

As Max stops to take a breather… She comments, "the people…violent groan…who got to kick your ass before more people get hurt."

Devrom goes to free his brother. But, there's a third golden guy in the way. And, he looks about ready to light the matches with a matchbox.

In spite of all the ghosts… Probert faintly figures out, "Devrom."

Devrom concludes, "guess it's too late to talk it out like Thetans."

The third golden guy mutters back, "not really…squirrel."

He tosses the half open matchbox into the campfire, setting off a burst of flames in the air.

Devrom is temporarily blinded by the burst…as the guy tackles him head on.

Meanwhile…

The first guy goes, "this… This is the best you squirrels got? Oh, that's rich. That's damn rich."

Both of the golden guys laugh.

With pistols aimed at their chests this time… Tinga puts it all together, "I know what you're really up to. The fires, the jackhammers... You weren't just making fires and mass hysteria. You're going back to the fires you started and drilling the sites to flood out the Midwest: Starting with here."

The golden guys then start to get more serious.

The second puts a arm over the fire: Letting more boils form, much to Tinga and Max's disgust.

But, just as quickly… His arm stretches out and punches Tinga back.

Tinga goes flying, coughing violently against the ground. Her pistols go flying.

Glaringly… Max charge walks for the golden guys.

Devrom high kicks from the ground…sending the third golden guy crashing into the back wall.

He's a little dazed. But, he's getting up just as quickly.

As soon as he gets his sight back, Devrom hurries over to Probert.

He rips off the bubble wrap behind him.

Devrom tells him, "run!"

Probert runs out. But, he doubles over behind the hut: Too exhausted to run more.

The third golden guy has already gotten up.

He run jumps through the fire: Letting himself have more boils all over.

Devrom gathers, "o…k. You're all insane."

The third golden guy faintly laughs, "not us: We're golden stars."

He stretches both his arms around Devrom's neck: Choking him in hot gold arms.

Devrom struggles to break free. But, it's burning down his liquid metal enforced biker gloves.

As his vision starts to blur… He tumbles forward, grabbing on as he does.

The third golden guy screams…as he's flung back into the fire to his fiery death.

Devrom is breathing heavily, as he dunks his steaming gloves into the sink to cool them down.

Max keeps both metal beams in place while she side kicks into the first golden guy: Knocking him over.

The second golden guy lunges at her with a stretched arm over the fire.

With a violent groan… Max lifts a metal beam out of the ground while clinging to the other.

She swings it into the golden guy's chest…through his semi-melted arm.

He coughs violently over the fire. And, it's not long before the fire burns the rest of him into a screaming sickly pile of mixed gold and dark red liquid.

Max faintly smiles to herself.

But…she soon finds she can't resist the seizures any longer.

She bends over against her knees, between a fallen metal beam and a metal beam in the ground.

The first golden guy goes over to the fire: About to lunge for Max and kill her then and there.

At seeing this, the smile fades from Max's face.

But, a second later… The first golden guy is shot in the head.

He falls back dead, with a trail of dark red liquid flying off.

And, standing not far away is Tinga…who fired: With one of her pistols back in her hand.

Max faintly smiles in relief, "thanks for having my back."

Tinga adds firmly, "anytime, baby sister."

That night, back the way they came…

Word of what really has been happening is going around: Largely thanks to Devrom, a slowly recovering Max, and Tinga bringing in the evidence in large buckets.

And from the sheriffs and their families to the priests and their families… Everyone is left shaken.

The rivalry in their towns has become deadly: All because of cattle poaching disagreements, diminishing supplies, and a few fires.

But, now they know why. And, they can only work to get better from here.

In one of the military bunkers, and in a dimly lit room… Probert is lying in a medical bed: Slowly recovering with emergency rations and water.

Devrom is standing there, looking uncomfortable as hell.

He asks, "you all right?"

Probert solemnly answers, "I am now. Hard cough!"

Devrom uneasily says, "I know I failed you. I know you deserved better."

With mixed feelings, Probert faintly laughs, "is that why you left? For some bullshit that you're not good enough to be my older brother?"

With a heavy sigh… He continues, "well, let me tell you something. I saw them, brother. I saw those evil men. I told the sheriff in the next town about it. But, he didn't believe me. No one did. And when I was kicked out for my troubles… I ran again. Then those evil men got me and tried to set me on fire. You saved me, Devrom: In 2009 and now. What more could I have asked for in a brother?"

With a faint smile… Probert reasons, "the irony is… Sniffle. I now understand why more than you think: Because of what happened to my second life down here. You don't owe me a thing."

Devrom faintly smiles.

He puts a sympathetic hand on his.

And, they just stay like that for some long minutes: Finally reunited as a family.

Meanwhile, up in Logan's apartment…

Logan is now at his desk, and on the phone.

Logan says, "hey, Toni."

On the other end, in a dark blue sweater… Toni answers, "hi. How are you, Logan?"

She's in her metal house, looking in better spirits.

She's sitting on her mostly green couch, under a dimly electronically lit chandelier.

She's holding the phone receiver in one hand while going through photos for her scrapbook.

Out her window, there's robots higher up: Working on the base of the nearest city tower day in and day out.

Logan faintly reflects, "better. But, the past few weeks have been uneventful. How is it back in Canada?"

Awkward sounding, Toni says, "well… Moderate sigh. A lot of rebuilding. Plenty of therapy sessions, like always."

Toni goes on, "but… You'll be happy to know that I've been doing well: All things considered. Everyone else is in the same boat. So, no one's been giving anyone else trouble."

Logan reasons, "that's good to hear: All things considered."

Toni solemnly nods, "yes. It is. The other thing is…the CSIS is gone for good. Corporate businesses thought it was bad for business to keep them going. Moderate sigh. About time, I say."

A little uneasily, Logan concludes, "yeah. But, at least that's one less big wrong in the world." With a faint smile, Toni admits, "true."

She inquires, "So…just how close are you with Eyes Only? I mean, I'm only asking because you got them to rescue me. I don't mean to pry."

Logan faintly chuckles, "well…let's just say I know some people."

With some hints of assurance, Toni faintly nods, "sure."

In the early morning, in Max's apartment…

Max is sitting in one of the chairs in the corner: With her bathrobe on, and freshly washed hair.

She's dialing a number on her cellular phone.

From the other end…is a dark red sheeted bedroom in the dark with dark green curtains.

The phone rings.

In bed, Samantha wakes up a little startled. Duncan is still asleep.

She picks up the receiver, "hello? Oh. Max. So, when are you going to stop calling me in the middle of the night?"

Max comments back, "when I stop not sleeping."

A little tired… Samantha faintly chuckles, "ok. Ok. Fine. What's on your brain lately?"

Max explains, "yesterday's mission was kind of bent. But, it makes for a good classic. Thought you'd also think so."

Samantha faintly smiles defeatedly, "all right. Go."

Max snarkily grins, "good. Well… It started with some golden men whacks. But, it really started when me and Tinga…"

Samantha sounds somewhat confused, "wait a minute. Golden men?"

Max figures, "yep. Gold infused right into them."

Samantha comments, "sounds like one crap full procedure. I thought people stopped that kind of thing after Goldfinger."

With a faint chuckle, Max remarks, "not even if Logan's paying. But, some guys just don't know when to stop."

With some mixed feelings, Samantha concludes, "yeah. I know how that goes. I know all too well. So…where were we?"

Max realizes, "ohh. Well… It started when me and Tinga went to meet Devrom in the middle of the night. We came in to find a crappy shot note and a dead body…"


	14. Episode 14: Mousetrapz

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 14:

A few nights later, down at Crash…

It's kind of a chill night.

Twenty to fifteen people have all got computer boxes out as they drink glasses at their tables, playing songs from the good old bad old Pre-Post days.

At one table is Max, sitting across from Original Cindy and Tara Colka.

A pitcher of beer is before them all.

Tara's got her mostly brink pink computer box playing the song Freedom by Joi: The official movie theme version.

Max wears a ripped and torn sleeveless black top: With a mostly dark red sticker like banner with Hal 9000 at center in black and white letters, and letters painted over and beyond in white to say "Max 9000 Kicking Hal Ass".

Tara is in a mostly brink pink dress with gray splotches. Original Cindy is in a light green T-shirt with moon base like blueprints over it.

Max solemnly thinks out loud, "this track is awesome. What is it?"

Tara slightly smiles, "thank you. It is from Panther."

Max takes a sip from her beer.

She then adds, "sorry. But, I still don't understand."

Before Tara can add more… Original Cindy offers, "it's aiight. I got this. Check it. A movie about the Black Panther Party for Self Defense and their struggle against FBI, and all sorts of oppression on all fronts for black people."

Impressed sounding, Max goes, "nice. Maybe I should ask Logan where I can help myself to a copy." Tara reasons, "you don't have to. I already got."

Max figures, "real nice. Maybe we could all watch later some time."

With a slight smile, Original Cindy implies, "I'm good if we all are."

Tara concludes casually, "I could go for it whenever."

Max says, "good. So… Just how long have you been getting serious?"

Original Cindy drinks down some of her beer.

Then… A little embarrassed, Original Cindy admits, "since the first night."

Max looks surprised, "really? Not that I'm judging. I...just thought you weren't that kind of girl."

Original Cindy explains, "well normally, no. But, her ad had so much flavor…that I just had to go for it then and there."

With some amusement, Tara openly surmises, "I was looking for fast. So, I figured what the hell? Just put as much about me as possible without the Sector Police kicking me out for being explicit. But, the blurred picture sure helped."

Kind of sarcastically, Max remarks, "damn. You're a cop and kicking it explicit with my home girl? You must be good."

Original Cindy reflectively adds, "girl, Tara is the warrior princess."

With a smile, Tara figures, "well, your warrior princess. Some cops give me a hard time for being me. But, I can take them if I got to."

Max says, "yeah. I feel you."

Tara responds firmly, "thank you."

Before drinking some more beer… Max insists casually, "not a problem."

Elsewhere, deeper into the night…

Syl is on a late run, biking her way out to Lake City. She's in her dark blue army jacket, over a sky like top with a halo of fire across.

She finds three scrap metal houses in a row, with thinly grass covered lawns.

She's carrying up a kind of small black purple package with purple splotches as she heads up the mostly wax yellow like stairs of one of the houses.

It has a grayish swirled looking door and pale blue walls.

Syl is thinking to herself, "well…this is some strange house. I'm looking forward to the bedroom. That's straight up sure. But…is that…?"

She nervously looks to her left. But, all she sees are shadows going into their scrap metal houses and mineral residue from their shoes from a mile away.

Syl slightly chuckles nervously to herself, "I'm getting tired. That's all it is."

She rings the doorbell.

A man with medium brown hair and a blackish brown shirt answers the door: Reeking of sweat and dirt, like he's been out with the trees all day.

The man says, "hello?"

Syl checks, "hey. Are you Mark?"

Mark faintly grins, "yeah. I've been expecting a package." Syl adds, "sure."

She hands him the package while getting out a clipboard with a form with the other hand.

Syl figures, "I just need a signature. And then, you can go get a shower and get a good night's rest." Mark comments, "that bad, huh?"

Syl nervously answers, "sorry. But, yes."

Mark figures, "it's ok. But…I think I'd feel better opening the package first. It's a new camera to replace the old one. And, I wouldn't want to sign without…"

Syl insists, "all right. I get it." Mark faintly grins, "thanks."

She comes in with him.

A small wooden table with a snow globe on it is in a small metal hall: Very dimly lit, with some ultraviolet hints of cleaned up bodily fluids on the floor.

Syl tries to hide it well. But, hints of disgust are on her face.

Mark opens up the box to find a silvery black camera.

He checks it over to see if it's in working order.

Bordering on impatient, Syl asks, "how is the camera?"

Suddenly, Mark changes his tune, "all good…now."

He flashes it off viciously at Syl.

She groans, reactively trying to cover her eyes. But, the glare is already there.

In the dim light, it lasts longer. But, her nictitating membranes are already helping.

The blurred out clipboard falls against the floor with a loud clink.

In the foggy shapes of light she can barely see… She realizes what he's trying for.

He's trying to cop a feel. But, Syl is faster.

She breaks his wrist on reflex: Getting him crying out in pain.

He angrily then tries to beat her into submission with his other arm.

Though, with her genetically lighter bones and more compact muscles… Syl easily turns her side away while decking him down.

As Syl's vision starts to be more precise… The man is coughing violently on his side on the floor: With a very big purplish looking bruise there.

But, as her vision fluctuates as it tries to adjust back to normal… The sight of his body goes from hairier to less hairy and back again.

In one distorted blur… A shot is fired.

In the next… A fading in and out glass window shatters: As Syl jump tumbles out through it.

And, in those seconds…she could hear a loud grinding of teeth and claws.

On the following day, late into the morning…

Yellow police tape is around and in Mark's house.

Mark's body is lying dead in the hall: Shot through the head, with a dried up trail of dark red liquid over the floor and some of the snow globe.

The window down the left is smashed through.

Strangely though… There are barely any signs if any of claw marks.

Some Sector Police and forensics with white lab coats and bulletproof vests are on the scene.

After the riots shortly after the Pulse…bulletproof vests have become common for forensics and medical teams.

Detective Sung is also here.

He briefly bends down with tan gray gloves: Picking up the fallen clipboard.

He tells them, "I'm going back out. See if there are any blood samples in the grass out front."

The forensic guys don't even look. The Sector Police cops just nod or don't care, as they sip their coffee or start heading into the kitchen area to start on their police reports on the job. Kitchen area's already clear though.

Detective Sung holds a dark blue cloth under the clipboard, and then puts it down on the metal kitchen table for forensics to check themselves.

On the way out, he takes off his gloves and puts them back into his overcoat.

He goes out the front door. But, he doesn't check the grass.

He goes straight for his rusty looking gray car.

As soon as he's in his police car, he calls up someone on his cellular phone.

From the other end, in a dark brown long sleeved army jacket… Logan answers, "hey." Detective Sung says, "hey, Logan."

Logan acknowledges, "Matt. So…what have you found?"

Detective Sung recollects, "a broken window. The only resident of the house is dead. Likely to be a gunshot wound. But, no sign of forced entry other than the window. And, that's just a possibility."

Logan figures, "ok. Any possible suspects other than the Homewreckers?"

A little uneasily, Detective Sung questions, "why so specific?"

Partly lying, Logan tells him, "oh. I heard they were beaten up bad, not very far from Jam Pony. Might be looking to settle a score by taking it out on Syl."

Detective Sung figures, "well, I'll look into it. But…it won't be easy."

Logan nervously checks, "why not?"

Detective Sung brings up, "word is getting around that Syl killed someone. Though, with no word on the Homewreckers as of late… It wouldn't be the first time a gang has intimidated people to keep quiet."

Some photos of the Homewreckers are on Logan's main monitor.

There's a guy with a big ball and chain, big muscles, and a black mask on with a orange hard hat over it. To his left is a guy with a jackhammer, spiky orange dyed medium hair, and a black mask. And to his right is a guy with a bulldozer styled metal suit with matching spiky gauntlets, and a yellow mask on with a orange hard hat over it.

In hard realization… Logan heavily sighs, "yeah. Well…dig up what you can. And, if you find her…" Detective Sung mostly assures him, "you'll be the first."

Logan says, "thanks, Matt."

He hangs up.

Max is standing not far off at a wooden Chinese screen: Still in her top from the other night.

Sounding more than a little worried, Max checks, "anything?"

Logan admits uneasily, "afraid not."

Max determinedly figures, "then I'm going."

She's already heading for the door.

Logan turns his chair in her direction to face her: Intensely looking her way.

He points out, "I know you want to find her, Max. But, unless you know something I don't know…it's going to be kind of hard to go when you got no idea of where to look."

Max pauses at the door. She pulls herself back from the doorknob.

Max mutters, "damn."

She turns back to him…looking a little embarrassed.

And, she just slightly laughs, "you know me so well."

With a light look on his face, Logan comments, "you're welcome."

Max solemnly adds, "ok. But, you're calling me if you find anything."

Logan confirms assuringly, "I will."

Max says, "thanks." Logan lightly insists, "no problem."

Max figures, "good. Cause whoever did this is going down: Hard."

She heads over to the couch: Putting her feet up and staring out the window.

Logan just sighs to himself: Not sure what else to do but go back to his computer.

Around this time, at Jam Pony…

Normal is at his metal bars grid framed cubicle.

The bike messengers are coming in and out like they always do.

The only close to real familiar face among them though…is Druid.

He's in a mostly green sweatshirt, and wearing his fisherman like white hat. But, under that hat, he's got a contemptuous nervous look in his eyes.

Normal asks uneasily, "where the fire truck is Syl?"

Druid comments, "how should I know? I'm not her master."

In his red and white painting like sweatshirt… Sketchy tells him, "hey, watch it."

With no hidden contempt at all… Druid figures, "well…if it isn't the biggest instrument of the Most High himself. And… Yeah: Since when does that concern you? Why don't you move on to another sucker girl like you always do?"

Most of the bike messengers are crowding around them.

Sketchy mutters, "I'm going to take that personally if you don't shut up."

Druid faintly sighs, "all right. You got a point."

Half heartedly, Sketchy says, "yeah, thanks."

Druid glares back, "but, why shouldn't we?! Before Herbal found out the truth, we were bros. Now…I can't stand to even look at you. Asshole."

Inches from him… A glaring Sketchy goes, "interesting. I could say the same thing."

By now, Normal has come out from behind his cubicle: Standing between Sketchy and Druid.

Normal calls out, "hey, hey! Break it up! Or, I'm closing today on account of finding replacements for every one of you ungrateful cretins. Now, go. Bip bip bip!"

Druid backs off: In spite of his glaring hatred.

Some of the bike messengers groan in disappointment. Several others glare back at Sketchy as they start on their way back on their bikes with packages.

With some relief, Sketchy adds, "thanks."

Normal insists, "don't mention it."

He's already on his way back to his cubicle.

Sketchy concludes admittedly, "no. Really. I never thought I'd say this. But, a lot of these guys really are bums."

Normal pauses: Turning back to Sketchy.

With a faint smile, Normal says, "you're welcome. Now, let me get back to work."

Sketchy casually realizes, "right. No problem. But, if Syl comes here…?"

Normal figures simply, "I'll let Logan know, and he'll let you know."

Sketchy points out in confirmation, "that's all I came down to ask."

Normal nods, "sure."

With that, Sketchy heads out: Mostly satisfied.

All the while… Behind the concrete archway… Syl has been lying low against it: Breathing hard and sweaty, catching her breath.

Three hours later, in the Eyes Only Rec Room…

Max questions, "where's Sketchy? We were gonna go kick it at a new midway."

She and Original Cindy are sitting in the ring of couches: With Original Cindy's arm sympathetically around her.

She's got her hair kind of bunched up and kind of not with her green hair scrunches, and a very dark blue sleeveless top on.

Original Cindy highlights, "might be a big old top secret science fiction weapon for Eyes Only he has to come in and account for before it explodes. Or, maybe he didn't feel so hot with his girlfriend missing. I'd go with the second though."

With a mixed expression, Max faintly chuckles, "same. Tried reaching him on his computer box. That was a half hour ago."

Original Cindy reflects in the open, "hmm. That ain't like him."

With a hint of worry, Max firmly adds, "yeah. It isn't."

A beep goes off from one of the computers.

Original Cindy says, "hold up. I got to check this." Max concludes, "sure."

Original Cindy pulls away, getting up to check the computer screens.

As she catches which one it's coming from…the fine print plays on the screen.

Kind of shaken, Original Cindy mutters, "damn."

Max turns her way, "what?"

Original Cindy realizes, "I'm on for a mission…watching another agent's back."

Max turns back to face nothing.

She solemnly figures, "blah blah, woof woof. I get it."

Original Cindy confirms nervously, "yeah. You gonna be ok though?"

Max faintly assures, "kind of sure of that. Faint chuckle. All good, all the time."

Original Cindy is on her way onto the blackish metal tiles. But, she pauses.

Original Cindy remarks, "right. Still… Getting there can be a real bitch."

Max mutters, "no kidding."

Original Cindy concludes, "hm hmm. See you later, Boo."

Max concludes, "yeah. See you later."

Original Cindy goes up.

But, she nervously looks back at Max: Hoping it's all going to work out.

Twelve long minutes later…

Max's cellular phone beeps.

Max answers it: Kind of relieved and kind of not for something to come up.

Uncertainly, Max asks, "hello?"

A familiar voice answers, "Max?"

Max goes wide eyed. She asks back, "Syl?"

Syl answers, "yes. And, Sketchy's with me."

Sighing with relief… Max says, "oh, thank god. What…?"

Very nervously, Syl quickly says, "sorry. I have to get off. They're on to me."

Fearing the worst… Max questions, "who is?"

Syl instructs, "Maple Leaf, 15th Avenue. Our lives depend on knowing."

She hangs up before Max can say more.

Max looks teary eyed across the couches as she puts down the cellular phone.

Around this time, down 15th Avenue…

Metal scrap houses of wood like and dark gray, little graffiti, and wire fences go for miles down groves of trees and worn down roads. Even the groves have wire fences.

Some houses are really metal one floor warehouses, because some people didn't want to spend much. Or, some people just liked the idea of a apartment or a government research lab all to themselves.

One of the one room warehouses has recently been condemned because of rats.

Now they're all lying dead: Along with the ghostly pale body of the hazmat suit covered exterminator who was supposed to kill them today, who was shot in the head.

Drips of dried dark red liquid decorate the floor in circles.

And, where some intersect… There's Syl: Hand on rifle, sitting against the wall.

Sketchy is sitting there: Hunched over, beside the doorway.

He brings up nervously, "okay. What is going on?! Because you're really starting to terrify me, and I think I deserve to at least know why."

Teary eyed in her mixed feelings… Syl admits, "last night freaked me out. But…it's not all there is. I've kept wanting to tell you everything. There's so much. But… Faint nervous chuckle. I guess there was never going to be a good time. Huh?"

With a faint smile, Sketchy suggests, "seems as good a time as any from where I am."

Syl solemnly figures, "yeah. Me too. Just…listen. Please."

Sketchy just says, "okay."

With a faint sniffle… Syl goes into her past, "you know the boarding school I've kept talking about? Well…it wasn't a boarding school. It was a hellhole classified under Project Manticore. We came from surrogate mothers: Max, me, and our other brothers and sisters. But, we were turned into genetically enhanced killers. Until the escape, we didn't know what else to be. You can't…imagine."

She sniffles hard…trying to put on a brave face and not succeeding at all.

Flashes of her shakily taking meds, the short time she and Zack and Krit were together in a cabin in Canada before splitting up to try to better protect themselves and their brothers and sisters, the Nomlies kept in cells, humanoid rats, escaping Manticore… They all flood through her.

Under her tears… Syl mumbles, "I'm sorry. I should be stronger than this. I should be better than this!"

But, even as her tears fall more and more… Sketchy says completely honestly, "no. You made terrible mistakes. You all did. But…you're already better than that."

Not even looking up… Syl wipes away some tears.

She admits shakily, "I killed people today, Sketchy. You really think I'm better?"

With a faint smile, Sketchy comments, "I've been friends with Max for a long time. She terrifies me sometimes. But, I still am. So, what does that make me?"

Looking up at him… Syl faintly grins, "maybe that makes us soulmates."

They awkwardly chuckle over that for a minute or so.

A half hour or so later…

Out there, while several people are coming around in their cars… Shots are heard.

Drivers try to swerve down adjacent streets to get out of range…only for flaming gasoline to ignite from their shot open gasoline tanks.

Their cars explode…as they go fly crashing through their front windows.

Some of them are on their sides coughing dark red liquid. Some are out cold.

People are either hurrying to the garden hoses or running like hell.

With mothers and fathers with their garden hoses, the fires are calming down.

A SWAT team is coming in: All in black, and in visible bulletproof vests.

Two officers in the SWAT team are shot through the glass over their helmets.

They both fall down dead.

By walkie-talkie… The team leader reports, "you know that shooter on 15th Avenue? Yeah. We're going to need more men: A lot more!"

Max is coming up in her black catsuit, speeding her motorcycle down the road.

She screeches to a halt before the SWAT team.

Interestingly enough, so do the shots from a certain metal one floor warehouse.

Max fake smiles their way, "now, what the hell are you government idiots thinking? Starting a shootout in the middle of the city?"

The team leader tries to explain, "sorry, ma'am. But, we have our orders…"

Max mutters harshly, "wrong answer."

She speed charges right through them.

One of the SWAT officers is doubled over, coughing violently over himself.

The other three officers barely jump away in time to avoid the same fate. But, they end up sprawled on the ground: Their rifles having fallen out of their hands.

Max continues on for the warehouse.

She angles her front wheel up…launching her motorcycle straight through the big front window.

She spins around to a stop.

But, when she gets off… Max tearfully realizes what she just walked into.

And, all she can think of is, "oh god."

A teary eyed Syl is standing shakily with her rifle out and loaded: With her back to the edge of the broken window she didn't even hear.

Sketchy is standing before her, looking more nervously hopeful than terrified.

But, Syl keeps hearing squeaks of a humanoid rat...getting louder and louder.

As tears threaten to pour out… Syl mumbles chillingly, "if you love me…go. Go: Before the pathogen gets you too!"

Even as she's pointing her rifle at him… Sketchy tries to say, "Syl. I can't just…!"

Trying to remain calm… Krit voices nervously, "Syl…listen to me. There is no Nomlie pathogen. There are no rats."

He's standing in the doorway: Tranquilizer aimed at Syl.

In that moment… Syl can't hold back the tears.

Glancing back at Krit… Syl shakenly insists, "but…I saw them. I know I…!"

Quick to answer… Max kind of lies, "he's telling the truth. Logan checked."

With tranquilizer ready… A teary eyed Krit says, "Syl… Don't make us do this."

Teary eyed… Max reaches out, "just give me the gun, and it'll be ok. Please!"

She reaches her open arm out towards Syl.

After a very long minute… Syl drops the gun into her hand.

Max chucks it away to Krit to pick up.

Krit sighs in much needed relief as he does.

Syl finds herself sitting in the corner of the room: Crying.

Max sits by her, hugging her and trying to in a comforting way.

Sketchy is sitting back against the floor.

He's tearfully mumbling, "I…don't understand."

Ambulances are driving away: Taking several guys to the nearest hospital with sirens blaring.

Max solemnly figures, "I'm not sure I do either. But, whatever happens…I'm going to get her through this whack bitch. I'll let it slide if the heart of darkness is too much for you to take, Sketchy. But, I have to stay."

With a faint smile… Sketchy says assuringly, "thanks Max. But…I'm not going. Syl needs me. She needs both of us." Max faintly smiles back, "I feel you."

Max lightly remarks, "if I start thinking you're just a guy… Remind me not to."

Sketchy bittersweetly adds, "sure."

Syl silently but faintly smiles, under her faced down head and her drying tears.

The next day…

Max is in her apartment, sitting in one of the chairs with a white top over her jet black jacket.

Past the window, the sun is just coming out.

In the dim light… Max sadly says, "Syl is my sister. But, Logan is my messiah. How do I choose who walks and who doesn't?"

In the chair across from her… In her light red woven dress… Anin reflects, "I've walked out on my family. But…that was when they were no longer family. Even then…it is not easy to let go. Sniffle. Believe me. I tried. If anything is going to challenge your love for that man…it's this. But, I hope he's feeling the same way: Because that means there's still hope for him. And, if there is a chance he will listen…you shouldn't run with Syl. You should face it, and you should face him."

Max gets up from the chair.

Max solemnly realizes, "you're right. I should. But…what if I have to run?"

Teary eyed, Anin faintly smiles, "then I'll miss you. But, I'll understand why."

Max and Anin hug each other tight.

Max faintly smiles back, "thanks." Anin adds, "you're welcome."

Into the early morning, in the Eyes Only Rec room…

Max and Logan are sitting opposite each other, in the ring of couches.

It's only been a day gone by. Yet, they can barely look at each other.

After some awkward minutes… Max speaks up.

With a vicious glare… She pinpoints, "you called in the SWAT team. Didn't you?"

In memory flashes, from yesterday in the late morning…

Logan was standing in a mostly light green office, with wooden doors, tall windows, and some open files on some recent murders with shots to the head.

He wasn't alone either. Krit was standing there too, and he wasn't happy.

Logan asked, "can you give us a few minutes?"

Detective Sung firmly said, "sure. I'll be right outside."

He closed the office door behind him.

Turning to Krit… Logan put to question, "all right. What is it?"

With hints of unease… Krit implied, "it's about Syl." Logan said, "okay."

Krit explained, "a Nomlie would tear right through that guy. He wasn't. Aside from the ZFA…that's the only thing that would scare her enough to run. If she wasn't… She'd withdraw back to someone close to her, and we wouldn't be trying to find her."

Logan was already not liking where this is going.

He inquired, "you think she got spooked?"

A solemn Krit was breaking it down for him, "it's worse: She's been set off."

Logan asked, "what do you mean?"

Krit admits, "I don't want to think on it either. But… Look."

He slightly flipped through the case files. But, he acted like he was there for hours.

Krit revealed uncomfortably, "three murders from 0430 to 0700. The murder from 2120. All of the ballistics match…from her gun."

Logan went wide eyed, "oh, god." Krit muttered, "yeah."

Logan just had to ask, "and how do you know this?"

Krit told him, "on the night of the escape, Zack faked his death. He ran to Canada when he could. That's how he found me and Syl. Moderate sigh. We spent a few days to rest up, compare notes, and figure out our next move. We talked about our strengths and weaknesses…in case Lydecker or someone else tried to exploit our weaknesses."

He explained further, "Syl's weakness…is also her strength. She was always good at pushing back fears and cheering herself and others up: Even if only a little. But, she feared Nomlies more than anything. She tried to imagine them as rats to lessen her fear of them. But, since then…she's been having nightmares with humanoid rats. And, if someone tried to violate her or mutilate her…"

Logan gravely realized, "she might start seeing more rats." Krit added, "exactly."

Facing the window with his arms crossed… Logan figured determinedly, "we got to find her and stop her: Before it gets worse. But, we can't tell Max. Not yet."

Krit questioned uneasily, "why not? If anyone else should know now, it's her."

Logan turned back to him.

With a cold fierce look in his eyes… He argued, "maybe you know Syl. But, I know Max. She hates mental hospitals almost as much as being locked in a cage. And, if she found out before things calm down…she would fight us on this."

Krit concluded, "ok. You don't have to convince me." Logan said, "good."

Krit asked, "so what's the plan?"

Logan mostly assured him, "just give me a minute. I'll think of something."

Presently…

Still in his jacket… Logan nervously gulps.

In a low tone… He comes clean, "I didn't want her to be shot! Nervous sigh. I just wanted to give her targets that would hopefully not die while innocent people were scared out there. Unfortunately…that didn't exactly go as well as I thought."

Hurt sounding… Max adds, "no. It's not just that. You didn't tell me about Syl or them. Why?!"

Logan points out uncomfortably, "I was going to tell you. But, if I told you then…would you fight me on it?"

Max mutters back, "what the hell kind of question is that?"

Logan reasons, "no. I think I know you better than that. The fact is that if you were to fight me on this while Syl had the gun…more innocent people would have died. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. But, I couldn't risk that."

With mixed feelings, Max admits, "faint sigh. Yeah. I understand that much."

Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Max goes on, "what I still don't understand is why you're going to lock her up in a cage. I don't care what you're calling a mental hospital. It's still a cage!"

Some tears fall from her face. But, right now, she doesn't seem to care.

Logan deeply sighs into his hands.

Teary eyed… He looks up at her.

He somberly says, "I don't know what else to do, Max. If you know of a way that doesn't mean running from reality…then tell me. Please."

Max is silent in saddened shock: Not sure whether to just deck him or believe him.

Then… Logan's cellular phone rings.

Logan picks up, "yeah? Could you call me back? I'm kind of in the middle of…"

On the other end, in her army blue jacket over dark green… Sydney fervently says, "no. Not if it means letting you and Max make the worst mistake of your lives."

Uncertainly, Logan figures, "okay."

Sydney tells him, "and put me on speaker. You both got to hear what I have to say."

Logan just says, "okay."

He then puts down the cellular phone on a center wooden table, facing up.

Max looks a little confused. But, she doesn't question it.

As delicately as she knows how, Sydney supposes, "hello, Max…Logan. I know you may not be in the mood to talk much. But…listen. I know you well enough to know what you're fighting about. But, I have a solution: One that everyone can be ok with."

Max and Logan faintly chuckle in very awkward relief.

A little better sounding… Max says, "all right. We're listening."

Over the course of the next several days…

Flashes of a mostly wooden classroom styled room go by, with counselors in mostly black and brown jackets going in and out with recovering drug abusers.

Among the help seekers though…is Syl in her army blue jacket.

Under the guise of seeing her as a drug abuse counselor, a counselor with close ties to Sydney's and Samantha's government administration is starting to meet with her.

After ninety days or so with him…she's expected to get a hold on the real. No more nightmare fueled dementia.

She even gets to go back home between sessions: So long as she takes the antipsychotic medication she needs, and goes through therapeutic techniques before and after work.

Syl and Sketchy are more than just good with that though.

Meanwhile, the Homewreckers are being charged for the murders: Thanks to Logan purchasing a exact match for Syl's gun and planting it in a package to them, as if they paid a guy to hand it off to them after the hits to discreetly dispose of the evidence.

Over it all… The scene lightly cuts to Max up on the Space Needle: Looking out towards the streets on a calm slightly chilly night.

She's left thinking to herself:

What a joke my life can get sometimes.

We were about ready to fight over Syl's life and future.

Then Sydney calls in and makes it all right, like we're just kids fighting over the last stick of bubblegum and she's telling us sharing is caring and enough is enough.

Faint amused chuckle. Can't really say I blame her though.

We're getting off each other's backs for a while: Me and Logan.

But, in the end…I think we're gonna be ok. I know we're stronger than that.

Thanks, Sydney. I owe you: Large.

Syl, Sketchy, Logan, Anin, and everyone else that's been there for me through good, bad, and the in between blur… Here's to a rocking and a rolling good future.

Not long after that night…

In a dark room in a undisclosed place…there's a jet black TV set against the wall.

With French, Scottish, and Irish subtitles… A video bulletin comes up onscreen.

Eyes Only announces, "do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom Video Bulletin. This cable hack cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left that knows who the ZFA really are. What I'm about to tell you is difficult to believe. Maybe even unthinkable. But when you do…you will not let the ZFA walk away from the political swings. They must be stopped…or we might as well go back to hitting each other with stones and sticks in a postmodern stone age."

It continues on, "yes. The ZFA are responsible for the Pulse. They hit Europe. They hit Australia. They hit the United States. And, it might not stop there. But, behind me are countries that are not afraid to act. This crime machine of cyborgs and mob bosses must be hunted down at all costs: For our future, and our children's future. They are guilty of millions of crimes. And, they will pay for them. Either we survive in this world, or they do."

The TV set is hypersonic blasted to smithereens.

And, in the shadows of the room… Cai utters angrily, "Logan Cale!"


	15. Episode 15: Arctic Vibes

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 15:

Over the rolling in fog, high in the sky…

The Eyes Only private plane is making its descent.

Max is in the back: Gazing out at the fog.

From so high… The landing looks like it's going to be on a giant glacier.

But, as the plane dives into the fog… It gets easier to really tell.

With cat like eyes… She can kind of clearly see the western coasts, pack ice, smaller shards of grease ice, and fjords coming up closer and closer.

Pinkish, bluish, and greenish auroras lightly play through the departing fog.

The Arctic cold spins around. But, the brightness of streetlights cast rays of hope through.

Further from the window… Max is seen in a open mostly black winter coat, jet black winter gloves, and matching boots. Under the winter coat is her mostly blue army jacket, with two brownish tan stripes down the front and red and gray patterned lining in the sleeve wrists. Under that is a light red top.

And, Max is thinking to herself:

Faint chuckle. That's the thing with parkas.

Others wearing them, I got no issue with.

But…something feels kind of bent about a member of the X-5 family wearing animal fur.

Ok. Maybe it is just me. But, I fought hard for double jackets. And, that's what I got.

Only…I don't always go looking for a fight.

Moderate sigh.

Maybe it's not helped by the ZFA bringing the Pulse to the western side of the world. Maybe I do have friends to be there by me.

But, sometimes…I wonder if I am just going to be poison to him.

And, I'm not talking about being a killing machine. I mean just poison.

We end up fighting over and over. This one almost took us both down.

What if we're not going to stay together: On account of me being too much of a bitch for him?

Sniffle.

Still… It wouldn't be the first time I was worrying over what turned out to be no big dealio.

Faint amused chuckle.

It's also nice to know I'm not alone on that.

Sketchy…I know you'd know what I'm talking of.

Most guys wouldn't know how you can worry, Sydney.

But, after kicking it with you and Samantha for a while… I believe it.

You wouldn't admit it yourself. But, you embarrass kind of easily.

Even when I asked if you did any VR work outside of VR.5 to 9, you were embarrassed to tell me you got a thing for beta testing virtual parks before they open up on the streets.

You thought it was "not exactly something other people could really get: Especially with me as the Chief Technology Officer, who often works with middle aged people of different political stands".

I invited her to see the world for what it is.

Ok. Maybe she didn't like my view of the broken world. But, it helped her realize the world isn't really running on government guys and spies in offices any more: It's running on survival.

It's something, anyway.

So is this trip out to see Phil.

Kind of funny it's taken him more than six months to kind of come back. And, of all places, to end up in Greenland: The only country with a large ice sheet for a center.

Not that I'm complaining. These guys sure as hell know how to survive and chill. But…yeah.

It should help me kind of come out of my headspace so I can have some fun.

Faint chuckle. I hear a lot of them like to laugh and play and hunt.

But, long as it's with me and not at me…I'll be ok.

A half hour or so after, down on the surface…

As Max is walking down the boulder stone carved road… The Nuuk Air Greenland Port in blocky dark blue is off to the distance behind her.

The Eyes Only private plane is already on its way back to Seattle: Taking off from the black airstrip, into the bluish auroras amidst the fogged over night sky.

Before the Pulse… Airports just used to be called airports.

Greenland's airports have been turned into Air Greenland Ports: Reminiscent of fishing days gone by and coming up, with dock styled roofs and meat market styled terminals.

Nuuk had asphalt for roads. But, it was taken out for boulder stone…with many a wide eyed face and swirl carved in, in a winding tale of unspoken confused joy at how far Greenland has come.

The mountains are snowless and thinner.

High up them, many a tomb with loosely piled rocks have withstood the icy winds of change.

Down them though…are a surprisingly cooling testament to Greenlander ingenuity and tradition.

Rock cobbled paths are plenty, as walking trails from villages to Nuuk. Although, the snowbanks on the ground makes the rocks almost invisible.

Aluminum ski lifts and streetlights can be seen along most every path.

Some aluminum smelters are in the center of some of the big villages.

Blocky blue and red wind turbines circle around all the small villages. Blocky yellow and green hydropower plants are along the coastlines: Right next to the docks.

After the Pulse… A lot has changed for the better for the Greenlanders. They weren't even hit.

Though, being surrounded by thousands of breaking off ice shards every single day would make for a extremely tough target for a Pulse to get through.

With significant research gone into Canadian weather planes… Greenland's environment has been slowly but surely recovering from global warming.

It may have been and still is a strenuous partnership. But, out there every two weeks, there's weather planes ensuring no smog reaches Greenland skies.

Meanwhile… The Greenland National Park and many national parks over Nunavut and Canada have been working to bring back as many animals as humanely possible: In the hope of restoring the cycle of life across the world. Most Greenlanders also hope to one day have plenty of animals to hunt more again, as part of a growing movement toward reconnecting with their ancestors's way of life.

A half hour or so later…

The fog gives way to night. Many a star and flashes of auroras dance in their light.

Max comes down a hill slope. And, coming up before her… There's the village of Kapisillit.

The villages have done away with wooden houses. They've put up mostly solid ice sludge mixed in sod huts, with wooden pieces going from dark red to bright blue.

Greenland has even taken the time to take apart every remnant of Denmark left.

They've transformed the US military bases and Danish offices into open prisons.

In the Pulse's wake… Every US and DK government and military official has been relocated back as "respectfully requested to help themselves rebuild their countries."

Surprisingly… It went very well, and wasn't met with much resistance.

Even Danish signs and most companies have been relocated back to Europe as "respectfully requested to help themselves rebuild". White signs with Greenlandic and English are everywhere.

This has all been met with some violent protests over the past decade from European immigrants, and from some European sympathetic Greenlanders.

For the Inughuit clan up north though, this was a very welcome change.

In recent years, they even sent some of their people down to Western Greenland to see if there could be more welcome changes: Which they welcomed.

Max faintly smirks to herself…as she passes some teenagers with mostly dark hair and dark red and yellow thick coats. They're by the coastline: Looking "more than a little handsy" with one another.

As she walks further into the village, she sees fifteen Greenlanders in sealskin parkas: Returning with some pulled in big sleds under two shot narwhals. There are hints of amulets on necklaces around some of their necks. Mostly brown hunting rifles and harpoons are easy to see from the hunters's sides.

Max says, "nice catch."

They pause a bit.

Some of the young hunters raise their eyebrows, with a faint smile and a chuckle.

Most of the hunters just blankly stare back. But, tired eyes are across all of their faces.

As politely as she is able… Max faintly smiles back and keeps going.

She can't help but feel a little shaken. But, she also feels some comfort in doing some research of her own before coming here: Not the least of which that raised eyebrows usually means yes, and a squint of the eyes or scrunching of the nose often means no.

She finds a mostly ice sludge sod hut with wood green pieces.

She's half expecting to open the door. But, there seems to only be a open entrance.

Max continues in, through a small bluish rug covered area where several coats and pairs of boots are kept. There's a short flight of stairs, leading up to a sliding fiberglass screen in wooden floorboards.

She leaves her coat on a hook on a wooden plank, and her boots under it. But, she takes out a large bike chain from one of her coat pockets to lock around them in a big x.

Then, Max pockets the metal key for the lock on her way up.

She goes up. But, she's a little surprised at how chilly things have suddenly gotten around her.

The dimly lit main level is a mostly gray kitchen area and a wide open living room.

There's two gray TVs, two slightly curved snow white black lined couches, a kind of large antenna in the back to help with satellite reception, and two good old fashioned built in gray computer terminals with some thick waterproof covered black fiber optic cables running through.

Two large box like flights of metal stairs lead up to bedrooms and bathrooms on either side of the hut. But, only the bedrooms and bathrooms have fiberglass windows.

A Greenlandic woman is drinking coffee from a curved up glass cup. She has slightly curly long dark brown hair and wears a cleavage showing white dress.

She looks a little startled as she places her cup down. But, as she sees Max, she faintly smiles.

In a faintly deep Greenland accent, the woman says, "haluu. Ajunngilatit?"

With white socks with two black lines down both sides… Max somewhat slowly turns to face her: Careful not to slip on the wooden floor as she leaves the chill behind.

Max faintly smiles, "I'm ok, thanks. Name's Max."

She starts offering to politely shake hands. Though, she quickly thinks better of it.

The woman gets a light chuckle from that.

A little embarrassed sounding, Max adds, "sorry."

With some raised eyebrows, the woman mostly assures, "Ajunngilaq. Mik ateqarpunga Kare."

Slightly relieved, Max says, "thanks. It's nice to meet you."

Past the awkward, she's been piecing together her dialect: Just in slightly longer time than usual.

In Greenlandic, Kare considers openly, "of course. Any friend of Phil is a friend of mine. Slight chuckle. He…slight chuckle…made a really interesting impression."

Max hands over a wad of cash, putting it on the counter for her seven day stay.

Slightly amused, Max comments, "slight chuckle. That he is."

Kare finishes the rest of her coffee.

Max suddenly asks, "you're not serious with him: Are you?"

Kare breathes in awkwardly. But, a light squint of the eyes quickly answers her.

Max faintly nods, "ok. Sorry if I brought up…"

Kare lightly insists, "it is all right. I am married to a husband. But, after the first days with Phil as our guest… Slight chuckle. I have seen worse. Let us just end the conversation there so you can get some sleep and start feeling less awkward tomorrow."

Max faintly smiles, "sure. That would be good." Kare adds, "you are welcome."

As she starts heading up one of the steps though… She turns back to her.

Max comments, "I don't sleep. But, thanks for offering."

A little worried sounding, Kare points out, "all right. But, those that walk into the day blind with tiredness and desire…end up in storms they never saw coming."

With a slight roll of her eyes, Max puts her hands up. Almost defeated sounding, she goes, "oh, fine. You caught me. I take a lot of naps. Now, can you tell me where my room is?"

Kare lightly chuckles, "sure. You will find your room on the third floor, up the stairs to your right. But…" Max asks, "what?"

Kare answers, "Phil has been asking for you. You might want to go see him before your nap."

Half jokingly, Max reasons, "sure. So…just where is my "superhero" friend?"

Slightly amused, Kare figures, "he's on the same floor as you. But, up the stairs to your left."

Max adds with a slight smile, "thanks for the update. Anything else?"

Kare says, "of course. You should also know my husband Râvfaile, our children, and the dog and the cats are upstairs. Please try your best not to wake them."

Max starts heading up the steps to the left. But, she turns back to her.

Max says, "sure. Thanks." Kare adds with a light chuckle, "you are welcome."

Max continues heading up the steps, toward the third floor.

Doorways with sliding in fiberglass and thin metal shutters go from floor to floor.

Further up the steps, there's a third set of stairs leading to a fiberglass trapdoor.

And, like with every Post-modern sod hut, there's a special mostly metal box.

Noticing the trend of darker ice… Greenland invested in reconstructing construction equipment with waterproof casing to help scoop out darker ice and soil, and to replace it with lighter ice and soil.

Over time, they've been slowly keeping Greenland's ice safe from global warming.

But, in late 2009… Greenlanders realized they could do much more with their scoops of ice.

In a year… Greenland was growing dark ice sludge at a astounding profit: Making more than enough to pay off blocks grant from Denmark, and giving themselves their long sought independence.

It was processed to be coolant for Post-Pulse fridges…and for something even more relieving.

For themselves and most of Europe… Greenland created inexpensive heating systems and coolant systems rolled into one: Mostly just out of ice sludge.

In Europe… The dark ice sludge is left in a mostly metal enforced tank next to a window.

In Greenland… The tank is on top of the roof, with a system of thin metal shades over its top.

Raise the shades, seal the tank's glass top, and in comes the sun to heat the house. Close the shades, open the tank, and the whole house cools in spreading out arctic frost.

Also, in related news… Greenland turned to marketing their own poop for fertilizer for corners of other countries: Partly so that they don't need to get trash collectors from Denmark to collect it.

There's no water in their non-flushable toilets: Only sliding chutes with a lot of ice sludge to slide down the poop into smallish blue dumpsters marked Fertilizer in red.

Not long after, in a certain room on the 3rd floor…

On a blackish blue monitor, there's a open TELE Greenland digital archive file. On the file… A sunset in reddish auroras casts a not so icy shadow over the Greenland ice sheet.

With yellow sirens blaring… Three white cars with Înungniaĸ Nakuarssûvoĸ across their doors in red are speeding on, with quadruple joystick controlled steering skis over their clamp locked wheels.

They're pursuing a boat wide mostly gray blackish metal sled. It's got bright red plumbing tubes around its center, unleashing contained air from opening left and right valves to steer and make it go.

The guy at the purplish controls wears a Viking helmet, a solid black mask, and a metal studded sealskin parka without a hood up. Chained up to the tubes in back is a medium gray haired man in a dark blue business shirt under a heavy yellow winter coat, with a big purplish bruise over his forehead.

The Înungniaĸ Nakuarssûvoĸ is gaining on them.

With a loud sharp breathing in sigh… The masked guy turns sharply around at the edge of a ice crater, whipping around while it's skidding.

A car speed charges for him…only for the masked guy to pull out a black shotgun and fire.

Glass shatters. A hunter in sealskin with a hunting rifle and a wood carved badge falls back dead, as brief flashes of dark red liquid splatter are seen against a light brown padded seat.

A hunter in sealskin who's driving reactively ducks as he struggles to keep a hand on the wheel.

He exclaims, "oh, hov!"

The first car goes flying into the ice crater: Crashing down in sparks of electricity and a burst of melting off ice. The driver's final scream echoes out from the ice.

As the two remaining cars close in… The masked guy unleashes all the contained air he's got.

He speeds off to the far right, ramming at the hood of one of the cars.

It goes skidding. The hood looks very dented on its electric powered side.

But, with a sigh of relief…the hunter who's driving gets control of the wheel.

The third car speeds up off a slanted ice slab, going back after the masked guy.

He's got a lot of speed on his sled: Even with the car landing a good few feet behind him.

The masked guy mutters in Greenlandic, "well, Director Laasa… As it will be with your little company Saffiugassaq Pitsortuvoq… Looks like you're to be dead calm."

With a hand still at the controls… He readies his rifle at the wide eyed Dr. Laasa.

Then though… The sled comes to a stop.

The masked guy cries out, "IIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

He goes flying off…as a brown rustic thin crane like arm grabs him by its hand.

It's a exoskeleton: With brown rustic crane arms with fishing net launchers, matching legs with metal made snowshoes, black metal gauntlets and boots in its thick black cable harness to get it to move, and a ton of whirling motors and waterproof casing cased wiring through its light gray chest plating.

A medium black haired hunter in a heavily layered snow white winter coat is operating it: Smirking in satisfaction as he holds the guy up in the air.

His wooden carved badge shines for a bit in the quickly fading sun.

He figures coldly in Icelandic, "Jôrut…you are going away for a long time."

The hunter hurls Jôrut into his own sled's controls: Knocking him out.

The hunter gets his gloves out of the gauntlets to take out his mostly brown rifle.

And then… He shoots off the chains holding Director Laasa.

With a sharp sigh of relief, Director Laasa thanks him.

The hunter grimly nods, as some hunters get out of the third car to bring in a unconscious Jôrut.

Further back from the screen… There's photos hanging over a wooden table: With Phil's aviator like hat there. The rest of the room is dark.

Phil and Max have been sitting on the edge of the bed, as pitch black comes from the window.

Kind of impressed and kind of not… Max sums up, "so…it had a lot to do with large exo-thingies by a company down in Nuuk." Kind of uneasily, Phil reasons, "yeah."

Turning to him, Max points out, "you know that still doesn't explain why you didn't just tell me all of this sooner."

Phil answers, "I wanted to." Lighter sounding, Max asks, "so why didn't you?"

Phil explains, "moderate sigh. Greenland has got tight security. They follow Japan's example. Not much of anything gets stolen because not much is reported on in the international news."

Max realizes solemnly, "unless it's already ready for commerce and crap. I understand. Doesn't mean it doesn't kind of still bum out my ass. But, yeah."

Phil says, "thanks."

After a small awkward silence… He adds, "I even pre-ordered."

With a slight chuckle, Max comments, "nice. How did you manage?"

With a faint smile, Phil says, "I stayed with my mom for four months: Up along Lake Michigan. Then, as I was heading back to Seattle…I happened to find a lot of motors being shipped overnight. I tracked them to Greenland. And, well…" Max finishes the thought, "…can't argue with destiny."

Phil solemnly says, "right. And, since I have experience in top secret warehouses, I landed a technical job in the back of Saffiugassaq Pitsortuvoq firsthand." Max says, "nice."

Finding it hard to look up…Phil nods, "yes. It was nice."

Getting a weird vibe from him… Max asks, "you ok?"

Phil faintly chuckles, laughing it off, "yeah. Just…it's late: Even for superheroes like us."

Not wanting to argue here…Max faintly smiles, "yeah. Sure."

The following morning…

Out the window from Max's bed… The sky is still quite dim: Like the beginning of a sunrise.

Only, there is no sunrise for another hour. It's the winter dawn over Greenland.

As she's just getting up in her mostly blue swirled bedsheet covered bed… Max faintly chuckles to herself: Almost as though she's admiring her reflection in the sea water over yonder.

Two days later, in the afternoon…

A teenage boy named Agssile is playing a indie game on a Ouya on a TV. With Post-Pulse Greenland's technical hand in the Ouya's inception, it has hit worldwide success.

Agssile has medium dark brown hair, a grass plain themed T-shirt, and light brown jeans.

The game is called Network SoulZapper: Where you can play as a soul hunter for a TV corporation called Network King that wants to only produce satire, and hunt down and zap disagreeing viewers through a cosmic dark purple rimmed 16-bit TV screen overlooking the streets. Or, play as a vocal politician against it who goes undercover as a soul hunter to hunt down soul hunters himself.

Phil is on the couch closer towards him, watching him play his video game.

Slightly turning to him… Agssile offers, "light chuckle. You sure you don't want to play? There's a extra controller." With his dark blue shirt under his open jacket… Phil insists, "thanks. But, I'd rather play as the politician. And, not against you."

Agssile slightly chuckles, "it's only a game. But, whatever works for you."

A teenage girl named Lâvara is on the other couch with Max. Lâvara has fairly long dark brown hair, a light orange T-shirt, blue jeans, and a thick open black winter coat. Max is in her silvery blue top.

The black cat and the mostly orange cat are napping by Lâvara, while she is carving out a trophy like icy waterfall out of Ivory with wood hilted carving tools over a wood slab to catch the fallen pieces.

A slightly amused Max is playing fetch from her edge of the couch with the family pet Shiba Inu named Jack: Bouncing the red ball up from the floor at high speed for him to catch with glee.

Then…Kare calls out from the kitchen, "all right! Lunch is ready."

There's a big foldable wood table next to the kitchen counter, with one and a half reindeer steaks, blackberries, and blueberries out on each plate.

Râvfaile is there already. He has medium black hair, a white shirt, and a open sealskin parka.

Kare comes from the kitchen to sit by him. She wears a cleavage showing light green dress.

Lâvara puts down the carving tools and Ivory. Max and Lâvara get up.

Max grabs the ball in mid-air.

Jack gives a soft high pitched scream, as he reaches out to her with his paws.

Max faintly chuckles in amusement, "Here. Go play with yourself for me. Alpha sees lunch."

She hands the ball over to a satisfied Jack to lightly chew and lick.

Lâvara faintly chuckles in her direction as she goes to eat.

Only slightly reluctantly, Agssile says, "well…ok."

He puts down the controller and gets up to go to eat.

Râvfaile mostly assures, "I am sure it'll still be there when you go back."

As he sits down, Agssile lightly says, "yeah, yeah. I know." Max and Lâvara slightly chuckle.

Max checks, "mind if I wash up?"

Kare says, "not at all. Go ahead." Max adds, "thanks."

Agssile and Lâvara thank their mom. Kare says, "you are welcome."

Everyone starts to eat. But, no one touches Max's plate.

As Max is washing up… She turns back to Phil, "are you sure you're coming? Cause this smells really good."

Distant sounding, Phil answers, "in a minute. Just going upstairs to check on some things." A little puzzled, Max says, "okay."

But, as she's drying up… She notices Phil heading up to his room: Closing the fiberglass and shutters behind him. And, she can't help but feel there's more to this than he says there is.

Two days later…

A light breeze brings snowfall, over the city of Nuuk. Greenland's capital.

With the snow all around, it looks almost like nothing's changed in years.

There's wood apartments and houses of dark gray and light blue. There's carvings and e-books across windows of business offices and government offices.

There's snow white lined buses of mostly sharp yellow.

There's the wood crafted dam styled Katqua Culture Center, busy with activity. And, there's some cafes and burger joints popular with the young: From LivingOffSundaes to TiMeal Coh.

From one village to another, the ice golf courses are rocky with icebergs aplenty. But, the bundled up contestants are good with swinging their yellow golf balls for the ice rimmed holes.

And, out on the city's edge, there's the fine works left from the Nuuk Snow Sculpture Festival.

One is a snow model submarine, with a jaw of snow spikes and a pair of snow eyes closing in. One is of a large triangle eyed musk ox skull. These are but a few of the top five picks.

Max and Lâvara are walking by them, stopping by to admire them.

They're in their black winter coats, with black gloves on. Lâvara has sealskin lining in her coat and gloves, whereas Max is keeping to her double layers of jackets.

Max finds herself looking at the snow model submarine.

Smiling brightly at it… Max says, "impressive."

With some raised eyebrows, Lâvara adds in Greenlandic, "slight chuckle. I thought so too."

Max figures, "thanks. Did you carve this yourself?"

She's lightly running her glove over the snow around the snow eyes.

Lâvara slightly chuckles. She lightly says, "no. One of my friends told me about it. I'm more at home with ivory and wiring myself."

Max goes, "nice." With a smile, Lâvara adds, "thanks."

Max voices coolly, "sure. You planning on becoming a electrician after trade school?"

Sounding a little surprised, Lâvara says, "pretty much. How did you…?"

Max slightly shrugs, "just a little educated guess. I majored in telecommunications."

Lâvara concludes, "light chuckle. Cool." Max adds, "thanks."

With her cat like eyes… Max suddenly sees a gust of smoke…coming from down off the coast.

Pointing in its direction… Max questions, "Lâvara…what's the dealio there?"

Kind of uneasily, Lâvara voices, "oh, that? Faint chuckle. That's Kangeq. It's been abandoned before. Mostly just ancient ruins now." Max realizes, "you mean it wasn't the only time?"

With a slight squint of her teary eyes… Lâvara kind of pushes back, "I don't want to go into it. Moderate sigh. But…let us just say the prison stationed there froze over: Literally."

Max mutters under her breath, "oh, god."

Lâvara admits, "yeah. I kind of know the feeling."

Max wonders uneasily, "can you at least tell me why?"

Lâvara shakes her head: Struggling to hold back tears in her half shut eyes.

Not even looking back… She says somberly, "it would be nice if it was that easy. Sniffle. If you really must know…ask Phil. He would likely know."

With a solemn nod… A slightly teary eyed Max says, "I'll do that."

Lâvara wipes away some tears.

She faintly smiles back, "okay."

After a small awkward silence… Lâvara asks, "umm… Anything else you'd like to see?"

Max figures, "thanks. But…I think it might be good to head back: Be in our own headspaces."

Kind of confused and relieved all at once… Lâvara surmises, "I guess same here."

They both start to head back: Against the elements of the snowfall.

And, as they do… Max is thinking to herself, "sorry, Lâvara. You must have been close to someone serving time in that open prison for a recovery program or something. But…I got to be sure it's really no big dealio: Even if it means opening a big hole in your life."

A hour or so later, out on the Labrador Sea…

Max is thinking to herself:

Phil helped get rid of most of the question marks.

One day…they were testing the newest model of alcohol detoxing cryogenic chambers. No joke.

There was a explosion.

The prison was frozen in ice. Most everyone else in there was frozen to death.

Only one guard made it to shore…before he collapsed.

He ended up telling his story in recovery in a hospital: Right in Nuuk.

On the scene… Max is holding on to the back of the harness of a Savfiugagssaĸ Pitsortuvoĸ exoskeleton: From the same company Dr. Laasa has been heading. And, in the exoskeleton…is Phil.

He's in a sealskin lined coat, and in sealskin lined boots and gloves: All mostly dark brown. Sealskin scarves are wrapped around his face under his aviator like hat.

Phil is swimming them to the rocky shore of Kangeq: Against the rolling in fog and arctic wind.

Sounding out of breath… Phil mutters tensely, "I know I'm helping you out. But…why…couldn't you swim there?"

Max reasons bitchily, "because I've found my mutant DNA is not so big on arctic cold. Deal."

Phil sighs exasperatedly. But, he keeps moving the exoskeleton to swim on.

Later, not long after coming up on shore…

Phil is out of his exoskeleton: Warming up some by the fire before him.

He's put away his scarves, feeling he won't need them anytime soon.

The fire is held in by a six foot cobbled together rock oven.

Not so far away, there's four solid red and yellow bolted in wood houses along a grassy rockbed.

Further inland, there's the solid paint peeling colored houses and the dark religiously reminiscent priest like statue making up the abandoned town of Kangeq. Yet down along the shores, the smell of strong alcohol, frosted over metal parts, and sea animal bones are scattered to the grass.

Max is spying through one of the broken windows of the houses along the rockbed.

She goes wide eyed. For, in the cowbell filled mess covered house…are two bottles of alcohol, floating as they're being drunk out of thin air.

One goes smashing carelessly into the wall, right in a pile of glass shards like it.

Max fast walks back to the fire unnoticed. And, she thinks to herself, "damn."

Turning to her, Phil asks uneasily, "what's up?"

Max admits reluctantly, "I have no idea. You got yourself warmed up enough to get back into your shiny new exo-thing?" A little warily, Phil figures, "yeah. Why?"

Max reasons, "because I got the sense we're gonna…need it."

From behind a solid red house… A punk guy named Vince with sleeked black hair and a matching jacket fires a ray from the open gun barrel of his staff of sharp blue.

Max tumbles off a patch of grass in time, which freezes in seconds.

Phil quickly gets his winter gloves and boots into his exoskeleton's gauntlets and boots.

Without being able to see his lips move… Max hears Vince say, "a…ajortuliorpoĸ sákutôĸ ituípâ…our sacred ground. Malerssorpâ!"

She can see watery ripples pierce the air. But, with more than twenty popping in and out across the rocks…even Max is having trouble telling where.

Phil makes shooting sounds, as he launches a fishing net from his exoskeleton's arm upon Vince.

Vince screams…as he ends up freezing himself in it in mid-fire.

Some watery ripples run for Vince's body, while more of the watery ripples charge for Phil.

Max high jumps over some incoming watery ripples…which take themselves out.

Loud thuds sound off, over humanoid bent water rippling shapes in the grass.

As she lands back on her feet… A slightly smiling Max gets her fists ready: Keeping her cat like eyes on the watery ripples coming for her.

But, surprisingly… Max is punched down to the ground.

She catches the invisible fist and violently kicks up into the attacker.

It goes down with a thud against another, knocking out two humanoid water rippling shapes.

Max struggles to get back up.

Her forehead is throbbing in pain. Her head is spinning.

Meanwhile… Phil catches some watery ripples in a net, stunning them against the ground.

But, some tackle over his exoskeleton by the legs.

Phil cries out in sharp shooting pain…as he falls back with a violent thud.

The last thing he sees is a watery ripple…with a invisible fist punching him out.

Max calls out angrily, "I don't know who you are. Now you're just pissing me off!"

She pulls out her crossbow, firing a cable right for a watery ripple.

Then…a eerily cheerful girlish voice says, "ooh. What's this?"

Max just looks incredulous: Even as she drops the crossbow to instinctively hurl flips over some watery ripples from behind her.

Another punches her in the side.

And, as she's violently coughing up some dark red liquid… She realizes, "oh…my god. You're all drunk out of your whack heads, and you're still kicking my ass?!"

In her heated crying out… The dizziness becomes too much to take.

She passes out: As several watery ripples close in on her.

A hour or so later…

Max and Phil come to…finding themselves tied up in cables in the attic of Vince's solid red house. They're in dimly lit light, hanging from the high wood ceiling.

A computer screen is down there: With some mostly gold blue lettered TiMeal Coh burger wrappers around it, plenty of files of off the books dealings that Max's cat like eyes can clearly see, and shipments of alcohol across the Atlantic going back to accounts in TiMeal Coh and a Mr. Rockburst.

She groans uneasily, "I… I never thought I'd find myself saying this. But, this is a lot worse than clique. Being held up for the villain to come rant about his evil plan, when I can see straight through it? That's just bent."

Phil comments nervously, "I didn't expect to lose sight of destiny."

Rolling her eyes… Max moderately sighs, "come on, Phil. We can't just let this bitch kick our asses: Not when there's saving the world from rock band rejects and super-powered drunks."

Phil mutters, "yeah well, it's not that." Max just says, "okay. Then…what?"

Phil deeply sighs.

After some awkward silence… He thinks out loud, "you know how much I talk about superheroes?" Max faintly chuckles, "yeah. How I know."

Solemnly, Phil admits, "well… After my sister died… Sniffle. It kept me going. Before that day, I didn't even talk much on Professor X or aliens. As a kid, I was more quiet and shy. Then, when the Pulse hit… I began worrying more: About everything."

Max faintly smiles reflectively, "so playing superhero got you to not be so down."

Teary eyed, Phil nods, "yeah. But…sometimes it still does. Not everyone gets a good ending. And, the more I was out of the business… I felt I wasn't there for more people. I was there for my mom. But, I couldn't stop worrying. It was going to be six months. I knew Eyes Only was out there, being heroes. But…I just couldn't do it. I left for destiny again. But, I think she understood."

Teary eyed herself, Max highlights, "wow. So, that's why you've been going into your darkroom a lot. I knew you were on a mission. I just didn't know how much of a honest man you are."

With a awkward smile, Phil says, "well, ordinarily…I keep more to myself. Faint chuckle. You're right. I'm out of practice. I'm just being down on myself. But, you're a superhero that makes your own destiny. How can I not be more open telling you what I've been thinking about my destiny?"

Max grins at that.

Shortly after though…she realizes where they still are.

She points out, "still… Maybe we should hold off on the after party until we get through this bitch." Phil figures awkwardly, "right. Good call."

Then… They hear footsteps.

Vince comes in with his freeze ray staff: Still shivering quite a bit.

Nine faint and kind of slow watery ripples gather round: Probably in hangovers.

With his staff raised high… Vince declares, "I, the shaman of the Snaktore clan, call upon my clan to send these ajortuliorpoĸ Tuurngaq to the land from which they came: The ice sheet of Hell."

With a roll of her eyes, Max adds sarcastically, "yeah. Because that's how that really works." Vince mutters nervously, "shut up, kakker."

Phil pinpoints, "you don't even know much Shaman rituals: You're just playing at Shaman for corporate evil." Vince practically screams, "shut up!"

Some watery ripples begin to cower in fear. Some of them start murmuring in stirred uncertainty.

In a watery glare… A watery ripple challenges, "a real shaman would not provoke the spirits."

Vince calls out desperately, "shut up! I'm the shaman, and our bickering provokes the spirits!"

Max figures, "the truth is a real bitch, isn't it?"

The watery spirit that challenged him punches out Vince…leaving him unconscious on the floor with his staff and a nasty purplish bruise.

One of them mumbles, "but…slight giggle…it's magic. We don't have to explain…" Another watery ripple shouts back, "shut up!"

Phil nervously says, "I don't think you should have done that."

Ignoring him… Max says to the watery ripple spirits, "sorry. The explosion wasn't some ritual thing: It was a experiment to turn you into living weapons under TiMeal Coh for cash. A specially blended alcohol keeps you chemically more watery. And, it's worked too good. Everyone thought you were dead, and you thought grease boy was your Shaman. With all the smoke and bones… I take it being on this island was training for the real thing, and the deal was going to go down this week."

Some of the watery ripples check the computer.

Phil realizes, "ohh." Teary eyed, Max adds, "yeah."

With dripping tears… A fifth watery ripple realizes, "she's right. Now what do we do?"

Phil suggests, "how about getting us down first?"

Not long after… Phil and Max are down: Thanks to a human pile of invisible watery people untying them and lowering them down to the floor.

Max solemnly says, "thanks." She then says to Phil, "come on."

As they're both walking for the door… A stunned Phil argues, "but…we can't just leave them."

Turning back to him… Max says upfront, "I know. They just found out they're not dead. Give them time to get over it some. However, if we don't hear from them soon… Eyes Only can send in agent Charim to see how they are holding up. Maybe they'll even let Greenland help them come back."

Phil figures, "good idea." Max adds with a slight smile, "thanks."

They get out to the back of the house.

They find Phil's exoskeleton under green tarp: Shiny, undamaged, and with a price tag on.

Max tears off the tag. But, she's a little amused by it: Even pocketing it without tearing it up.

With a faint smile, Phil concludes, "you know…maybe I should head back with you. Really start to get back in the business." Max adds, "I wouldn't mind."

Phil starts to get into the harness of the exoskeleton.

He suggests, "some milk and cookies would sound good right now."

With a slight smile, Max says, "same here."

Two days later…

There's a knock on Max's bedroom fiberglass screen.

In her mostly blue army jacket over black… Max calls back, "yeah?"

A kind of nervous Agssile comes in: Holding a white CD in a plastic case with Max's Ride around Greenland on it in black marker.

Max asks, "what is it?"

Agssile figures, "when we wondered if you could write up a film for the digital archive… Faint chuckle. Well, I liked it. My friends liked it. But, I'm not sure most Greenlanders are going to like it."

Max lightly says, "that's sweet. But, let me break it down for you. If it gets struck down, I'll just make bootlegs. Okay?"

Agssile chuckles at that.

He says, "okay, Max. Thanks." Max adds, "sure."

He closes the fiberglass behind him.

A month or so later, up at Logan's apartment…

Max's Ride around Greenland is on Logan's main monitor.

It's a short film of Max in a blackberry colored waitress uniform, lip syncing to the song Milkshake by Kelis in a ice sheet carved out diner. Silver laser shooting robots running on milkshakes are there fighting over her, until she takes them all out.

In a dark blue long sleeved shirt… Logan questions, "and this is not sexually suggestive how?"

In her silvery blue top… Max just chuckles, "so? I like milk. Not a big dealio."

She heads out for the door before Logan can get another word in.

Logan just slightly chuckles: Knowing that sometimes there's just no stopping her when she's made up her mind.


	16. Episode 16: Cold Fire

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 16:

Past Germany's western borders, several nights ago…

Dark brown, yellow, and white bricked hydroelectric and steam run towers of power plants are along the western shores. Blackened Lego brick styled cathedral like houses, apartment tall warehouses, and churches in mostly rustic brown and cobblestone grayish white line every streetlight lit city block.

It was largely built with help from Denmark helping their allies have houses to sleep in, and their tension filled agreements with Greenland to make it all possible. The same could be said of a good handful of countries who banded together with limited technology resources after the Pulse against gangs and terrorists: Led by France, Spain, Canada, and the UK.

Covert ops looking guys in mostly blackish blue and green Sicherheit uniforms patrol the fogged over night in their shiny silver and black cars: With yellow and blue highlights parting the fog and faint wind. Some have long brown haired topless women in red lingerie, getting real "close" and "kissing up" to the pulled over officers. Some have built-in music players blazing punk music.

Speeders go by. But, most of German Security let it fly.

After the Pulse, the government just simplified the no speed limits areas with no speed limit anywhere, plenty of built-in overhead sprinkler heads to put out a car crash on automatic, and a water system to filter and drain it back into the sprinklers to use again.

Fog often comes and goes out here, because of so much accumulated moisture from steam run power over the years.

A light brown short haired guy with a brown overcoat and a light blue worker vest comes walking into a car lot: Looking a little tired as he walks over the black mat. It makes the glass doors kinetically open on a hidden away fast gear and pulley system.

The car lot is mostly silvery framed all over, with metal black window shades to pull down and a metal flat roof. Even the furnaces and metalwork work station have silvery framed glass around them.

A fairly long blond woman in a black formal buttoned business suit is at the wooden looking front desk. She greets him politely, "hello, Mister. Do you have a appointment?"

The guy answers, "yeah. Mr. Ordin to see Mr. Patrono."

The secretary takes a minute: Looking through the flameproof blackened gray laptop and the appointment book on it.

With a faint amused smile… She figures, "oh, yes. I see. You're thirty minutes early. Why don't you go out and treat yourself to a quick snack across the way and then come in?"

With a eerie grin… The guy concludes, "oh, I won't be long. But, you might be."

He closes his eyes…just before lasers go off from all over his body.

The secretary screams, "nein!"

Glass walls and shutters explode. The laptop and reception area is all ablaze.

Across the car lot, engines and electric components are swept up quick in the flames. Screams pierce the calm of the fog.

Debris scatters across five city blocks…setting them aflame before bursting apart streetlights and sprinklers. Tiny sizzles of water don't do a thing.

The screams get louder and louder as people run from their beds and kitchens.

German Security car sirens are whirling off, as German Security officers scramble for the fire. One of them calls the fire department.

But, by the time the mostly red fire trucks get there…twelve city blocks are burning down.

The calm of the night has burned away. And, in its place is fear: Pure fear.

Presently, in another city of Western Germany…

The police station is mostly blackened, barely lit with hanging light bulbs over gray walls. And, a half hung up bulletin board full of photos is before a brownish blond medium haired police captain.

A teary eyed Max is standing not far off a half broke chair, in her black catsuit. She's looking at pictures, taken of a certain car lot.

In the pictures… Hints of splatters of dark red liquid and liquid metal cover the shards left of the lot of cars.

Max grimly voices, "hmm. There's one set of images I sure as hell would like to purge out of my memory."

Glaringly, Police Captain Donatrum solemnly mutters, "yep. It didn't end there either."

Max wonders uneasily, "how many?"

Holding up one of the photos from the bulletin board… Captain Donatrum recollects, "three in one day. And, that's not getting into the other cyborg shits that have been storming in. Some had turned their pagers into grenades. Some decided to fill themselves up with lasers inside out."

Max looks stunned, "oh, god." Captain Donatrum adds, "yep."

Max is thinking to herself, "damn. Thought the ZFA was all ten-hut and secretive or something. Not even trying to cover their cybernetic asses, and they're still kicking our asses with trick shots!"

More worried than sarcastic, Max puts to question, "how have you guys been holding up?"

Captain Donatrum looks up at her.

He sighs heavily, "not that well. That's why we reached out to you people."

He paces around a bit.

He starts ranting, "as far as I am concerned, East Germany is a lost cause to shits and anarchy. But…that doesn't mean I don't think about them when I go to sleep at night."

With a bottled up anger… Max is thinking to herself, "and I take it fighting the power and taking out brothels aren't part of your vision thing: Like most cops around here."

She figures, "you used to be in East Germany yourself."

With a death like glare at a broken window… Captain Donatrum goes on, "not exactly. My cousin was though. Kind of puny, but smart. Used to go visit him...before the ZFA tore through it and nearly killed all of us hard working people. Faint laugh. We were already full of our share of security after the Pulse. When I killed rioters that day…it felt good: Purging the system of verzögerns and puny shits. But, these days…it feels kind of better: Knowing what cyborg shits really are, and how to purge them where we can get them. You know?"

With a sharp glare filled with mixed feelings… Max comments, "yeah. I know the feeling."

She's already on her way out the silvery framed door: Pocketing the photos in her hand.

With a eerie concentrated look to him… Captain Donatrum considers, "you must have been through some shit yourself. Maybe after you're done here, we can get to know each other over beers."

Max slightly turns back, and quickly turns back to the door.

She mutters back, "not a chance." And, she walks out.

Captain Donatrum stands there, looking confused.

He turns to her direction. But, she's already gone.

Captain Donatrum is left asking at nothing, "was it something I said?"

Meanwhile, down in Seattle…

In a certain warehouse, before the often lit and paid for shipped in candles… Devrom is sitting there with Probert, drinking some from a bottle of alcohol.

His self given role as a martial arts instructor has been fairly good to him.

In Probert's hands is a book titled The Scholl Case: The Deadly End of a Marriage. It's got wintery branches and a fog covered atmosphere for a cover.

Devrom puts down the bottle.

He questions, "why do you do this to yourself? This doesn't have to do with your Thetan. And yet, you act as though it is."

Probert faintly chuckles, "you know I'm not the only one who started reading up. Most of us in the Midwest have been kept in the dark at just how dire the world has gotten. We're mostly seeing to our own wounded. But, some like myself have begun to explore what's past the Mississippi."

In reflection, Devrom faintly smiles, "you want to prepare yourself for what may come for you and your community. I can kind of understand that."

Probert points out, "that, and my Christian beliefs: Which are different than yours. Nevertheless…I have missed these kind of discussions with Clemento."

Thinking back to a certain Scientologist friend from their past… Devrom considers, "I am thankful for that. I have missed him too." With a faint smile, Probert adds, "you're welcome."

Devrom is quick to realize, "yet you seem to be pained by something."

Probert surmises, "I am. If people in Germany like Mr. Scholl and Mr. Selmayr hated restrictions and rules they were given so much that they were driven to commit murder…why didn't they go to another country to be more at peace: Without violence and with happier marriages?"

Devrom says, "heavy sigh. Well, Probert… That's a hard question: For anyone. There's always going to be times when we don't like rules or something a good friend says. But, we come onto the planet Teegeeack with one set of memories after another towards the Clear State. And sometimes, it's hard to tell the imposed reactive engrams from the path you have consciously taken."

Probert considers nervously, "hmm. True. I guess I just wish we could all be more at peace."

Teary eyed… Devrom openly admits, "I wish that too. But, most of Europe was hit hard by the Pulse. Many of them find it hard to tell imposed conditions of dire living from the path that is theirs to take: Especially most of Germany. They have become overwhelmed with Neo-Nazis and gangs, because of a sudden lack of restrictions and rules they blindly saw as their barred paths given light."

Wide eyed, Probert looks to him, "how do you know this?"

Devrom explains simply, "I only recently found out myself. But, let's just say I know some super troopers from Eyes Only."

Probert says, "I see. Still… I wish it could all be more peaceful."

Devrom tries to assure, "the war with Xeno and his forces will end someday. It's just not today."

Probert faintly looks to the mirrors.

He just faintly says, "yeah. In a way, I think you're right. But…I wish it would end sooner."

As he looks in the same direction as the mirrors, Devrom faintly nods back, "I welcome that day too, brother. I think about it a lot."

Over in Western Germany, a hour and nineteen minutes later…

Most of the streetlights and sprinklers are down, riddled with bullets.

The early afternoon is mostly clear skies: Only some big white clouds.

Most everyone's houses have bulletproof shutters and glass windows closed. Patrols have been constant. But, even with most Germans off the street, there hasn't been trespassers coming in for days.

Over communications, in a long dark blue sleeved shirt… Logan checks, "Max? Talk to me."

Over comlink, Max figures snarkily, "I'm good. Just static with lasers not really close to frying my ass."

The dark brown medium haired cyborg up there facing her is burning up rubber skin and shards of dark green clothes in lasers and splatters of liquid metal coming from all over his torso.

Max is up on a dark red and brown bricked cathedral like rooftop, easily jump flip tumbling away from the lasers coming at her.

Logan goes, "faint chuckle. Ok. Talk to me after?"

Max faintly smiles from the other end, "sounds good."

Meanwhile, out in Eastern Germany…

Out here, there are no sprinklers. There's not much anything but warehouses for broken down homes, half naked bruised and beaten slaves chained to improvised cells with wet reeking yellow underwear, gangs with spiked cuffs and gray jackets, and gangs with punk hairstyles of pink and purple.

Smog, piles of ashes, and crashed down burnt up streetlights line the burnt down brick and stone buildings of civilization. And, many a Nazi flag is up over the ash.

In the midst of the anarchy… A bricked furnace run power hub of rustic brown explodes.

A Eyes Only agent in a black catsuit and matching gloves is knocked back by the explosion. Ribbons of a dark green army uniform go up in the smoke.

And, in the smoke and flames…is a ZFA member going by MajorTaze.

He's a ex-soldier gone anti-German mercenary, who was kicked out of the German military for burning his commander on fire for ordering him around when he had "better ideas". It was in camp, and the fire was easily put out by some commanders. But, it set him on the path to becoming what he is.

He's become quickly known for putting on soldiers's clothes in enemy lines and throwing the burning remains around from his own lasers.

The Eyes Only agent with very short red hair groans and coughs violently as he's crawling out from a pile of ash. His name is Jeff Shadnex.

With his flaming dark red mullet and flaming up rubber skin hands out… MajorTaze calls out, "I don't know what Regierung you're under. But, I got a message for them: With you good and tot!"

He charges right for the ash: About to light it all up with lasers charging up.

Meanwhile, out in the United Kingdom…

It's clear skies out: Not even a hint of fog rolling in.

Traffic lights and security cameras are as far as the eye can see.

But, with so many cameras from street intersection to street intersection, no one has volunteered for house surveillance or corporate surveillance. Most felt it was too bad for business or impersonal.

Spiraling highways as tall as skyscrapers have greatly turned out the levels of traffic, with warehouses doubling as parking garages and stone museum styled houses along every street.

With Canada ensuring their protection from a Pulse, they've been mostly with clear skies, well paid salaries, and low level silvery and coal black A.I. construction machines.

Although…A.I. has become a heated topic.

South British armed forces will fire at any A.I. machine that sets foot in South Britain. They'd much rather outlaw them than give up manual labor.

But, against the ZFA… North and South definitely come together as one.

With dark red military special forces attire and mostly desert tan army uniforms… Troops stands around a smashed in section of highway.

Cars are smashed in a pile up below. Tens of cars are swiftly turning around back down and up.

A British commander orders, "take them down!"

Down there, a ZFA cyborg in mostly shot up rubber skin, a black overcoat, and dark red elbow pads and knee pads is holding a sunglasses black scanner equipped laser rifle. He's leading a gang in black overcoats, with matching scanner equipped laser rifles and Nazi symbols on their sleeves.

Krit is in a mostly bright green Canadian army uniform with a Intelligence Branch badge on the shoulder: Side tumbling off away from the lasers.

A laser from the ZFA cyborg accidentally hits one of the gang members, who cries out in burning pain while clutching his side.

With Krit having tumbled out of range of fire… The troops shoot most of them down: Their laser rifles making very easy targets.

The ZFA cyborg though is faster.

With mechanical whirls… He fires back.

Several officers burn up in their screams, before others slightly retreat back from the lasers.

With a glare of cold anger… A getting up Krit mutters, "some soldiers got to stay buried."

He shoots at a sparking electric car engine, right under the ZFA cyborg.

The engine explodes off…taking the screaming burning up cyborg with it.

Meanwhile, out in France…

The Palace of Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, the resorts of Cote D'azur… They've all been destroyed in civil unrest and nuclear fallout in the wake of the Pulse: When the typical reporting system for France went up in smoke and no one could call it in.

With some help from their alliance with the UK and Canada, most of France's world renowned places and radiated shores were restored from the ground up. But, with so many rocks and metalwork readily around… Castles and medieval styled villages with limited electricity got extremely popular to go home with comfort all the sooner.

Some cities have rebuilt with Lego brick styled mostly bright white, orange, and yellow beach house like flat roof houses. But, most of the French have stuck to their more traditional oriented ways.

The skies are clear blue. Wind turbines and solar power are plentiful.

In the wake of the riots, the police and the military were combined into the French Unification Forces to shoot down any terrorist that comes, protect the innocent, and be witness protection when needed. Or at least, that's the organization's intentions.

But, in a mostly white painted stone castle… Things are not so clear blue.

The French Unification Forces in mostly tan green army uniforms are down the winding halls…firing silver barreled black ANF1 machine guns into shot up ZFA cyborgs in black overcoats.

The ZFA cyborgs got chains by their sides, as they're clutching their denting in sides. Metal liquid drips down the halls.

Charim is behind them, in a red overcoat. She faintly smiles in faint hope.

Then…they speed hurl their chains through some of the machine guns.

Several officers fall dead as their guns implode. And, a uproar of shrapnel comes down a coming down hall for more.

Charim sighs deeply, taking a deep breath.

She cries out, "Kuso ̄!"

She tumbles forward…diving through as one big humanoid drop of water.

She sends shrapnel and debris back at the swiftly short circuiting cyborgs…decimating them inside and out.

Charim reconstitutes herself against a intact wall: Teary eyed and catching her breath. The other officers look to her stunned.

The medium dark brown haired troop commander goes, "sensationnel."

He walks over to Charim, standing there quite confused.

He starts to ask, "so, if you could just do that…why…?!"

Not even looking up… Charim somberly replies, "I had to a few times. But, I've always hated having to. I hate killing! Sniffle! And, do you know how kuso ̄ kantan ni it is to get stomach pain with this biochemical therapy?! I can't tell you how miryoku-tekina it's been for me to go back to baby food or relieve myself in the ocean! Sniffle!"

Now looking super embarrassed… The commander says, "yeah. Sure. I'll give you a minute."

Sounding kind of relieved, Charim calls back, "thank you!"

The troops fall back to give her space.

Over communications, with a black microphone around her ear and a dark red cleavage showing top on… Original Cindy checks in concern, "you sure you're aiight? Cause Original Cindy heard big splashes. And, you ain't beating yourself up over this mission unless it's serious."

Over a waterproof made comlink… Charim whispers, "more or less. You must have heard." Original Cindy faintly nods, "yeah. Sure. I…just wish I could help a sister out more. You know?"

With a faint mixed smile… Charim insists faintly, "you've helped enough. But, you're ok."

Original Cindy faintly chuckles, "thanks Charim." Charim firmly adds, "ok."

Back with Jeff…

With only seconds to react… Jeff kicks up ash: Making MajorTaze reactively shield his eyes.

His lasers go all over the place.

They hit the ground and his own burning arms: Liquid metal dripping like mad.

The liquid metal trail soon catches fire, along with some of the ash.

Jeff jumps out of the ash in time…tackling MajorTaze as it explodes in a gray puff of smoke.

MajorTaze angrily throws Jeff off. He crash lands through a lone metal wall.

But, even as he can barely move…he pulls back and fires off his EMP crossbow.

Jeff mutters, "ZFA…violent cough…how's this for a message?"

MajorTaze is walking over to him: Determined to finish him…when sparks of fried circuitry courses through his nervous system.

A trail of dark red liquid and liquid metal bursts up from his chest. And, the flames around his burning screaming corpse from all the lit up liquid metal scorches whatever little is left of his humanity.

Back with Max…

By then, a German Sicherheit car is circling around: Sirens whirling.

Max is just standing there on the smoking burnt off top of the rooftop, looking amused.

She starts laughing at the guy.

In a mechanical voice, he calls out, "I'm just getting warmed up!"

She calls out, "yeah. I don't believe it. Why? Oh, right: Because you're a pathetic ZFA guy. You can't even shoot down a bird!"

In a angry cry, the ZFA cyborg leap charges at Max to try to fire all he's got.

Max though just tumble back kicks into him: Stunning him and sending him crash tumbling down the side of the roof before he can even fire much.

Not long after…

Max is in a alleyway, standing over the cyborg's body.

With her acute hearing and cat like eyes though… She doesn't even have to feel a pulse: She still hears mechanical whirls and sees very little dark red liquid.

Over communications… Logan checks, "so…how did it go?"

With a mixed sense, Max answers, "he'll be having hospital food for a while. But, he's not dead: Just out. Though, I got to say: That was kind of easy."

A little relieved sounding, Logan says, "yeah. Still… It might be good for us. Once the police are done with checking him out, we can take him back to Eyes Only for our own examination: No chance of ZFA in the chain of command."

Max thinks out loud, "doesn't mean I have to like it. But, yeah. I get it. How is Jeff?"

Logan reports, "he's barely conscious. But, he's ok. I just called in a team to get him out of there." Max faintly chuckles, "well…least it's good on someone."

Then… A long blond haired German Security officer comes down the alley: Black pistol sticking out of her pocket.

The security officer asks politely, "miss…can I see some I.D?"

With a faint roll of her eyes… Max shows her her Eyes Only International badge.

Max annoyedly adds, "is that all, officer?"

The security officer figures, "that depends on your cooperation. This way, Miss Guevera."

She motions for her to come to the silvery security car further up the alley.

Max looks wide eyed. She starts to argue, "what the hell are you…?"

In a low voice, Logan calls out to her, "Max!"

Max lowly shouts back, "what?!"

The officer steps back a little warily: Thinking she's just talking on comlink.

Logan brings up, "heavy sigh. Max…I know this is going to sound screwed up. But, they're not going to arrest you." Max mutters nervously, "how do you know?"

Logan reasons, "because unlike you, I bothered to find out how homeland security does things in Germany. Unless they charge you with something, they just want to help."

Max comments uneasily, "well, they have a funny way of showing it."

The security officer firmly asks again, "miss?"

Pretending to not have heard… Max goes, "sorry, officer?"

Looking faintly relieved… The security officer takes her hand off her pistol.

She concludes, "I know you're a agent. And, I'm sorry if you're in the middle of talking to your commander. But, why don't we go for a ride?"

Max reluctantly answers, "ok."

The security officer faintly smiles, "appreciate it."

Max is thinking to herself, "guess worst to worse, I can always take on the officers without breaking a sweat. Still… Faint sigh. Every time I've been pulled over…that's when it all just plain sucks. But, if Logan says it's ok, it should be. Or, I'm going to so kick his ass when I get back."

She and the officer head over to the police car.

A few more security officers grab the ZFA cyborg body to bring into the car.

The first police officer gets the car door for Max.

As she's getting in…Max adds, "thanks."

Fifteen or so minutes later…

The first officer is driving. A dark brown medium haired officer is on the opposite front seat.

The two security officers in the back have transferred to another car: Leaving the back all to Max and a laid out ZFA cyborg body to start examining.

Max convinced the two security officers that they don't have to go to the station to examine him: She could do it all herself with little help, while some of the officers go to help on patrol. But, she also feels a little more comfortable with less officers around.

Slightly turning to her… The second officer wonders, "found anything?"

Max faintly sighs uneasily: Her bare hands shining with liquid metal.

She's wiping them off with a wet washcloth a lot to get it all out.

As she does… She concludes, "usually, they self destruct their cyborg microchips and crap. But, these parts look more mechanical: Even amateurish. The surgically broken bones aren't even all that strongly fortified. Something tells me this is turning out to be too easy."

The officers grimace at the swearing. But, they don't say anything about it.

The second officer faintly shrugs, "well, it's their bodies. Could just have run out of enough cybernetics to give out."

Max faintly chuckles. She figures, "no. I don't think that's it. Belarus has plenty. But, it was nice to think so." The second officer faintly nods, "sure."

Impatient sounding… The first officer wonders, "so what do we do now?"

Having gotten the liquid metal off… Max grabs up a dark red screened black pager from near the cyborg's neck: Covered in dried up liquid metal, wiring, and hints of dark red liquid. She recently surgically got it out with her knife.

As she's cleaning the knife with another washcloth… Max sums up, "the rest of him might be a pathetic cyborg job. But, this pager sure as hell isn't. Seems it plays through memories of what every ZFA cybernetic ass has been up to. We just got to let it play long enough to find out what they're up to."

The pager is a little cracked. But, it's cycling through the recent fights with the ZFA from France and Britain to here from a first person view no problem.

Not long after… It comes up on a giant superdense hardened metal ball crossbow styled metal launcher: Mounted up on top of a warehouse, out in smog.

A hour or so later, out in Eastern Germany…

The security car pulls up, several miles away from the warehouse.

A gang with spiked cuffs and gray jackets seems to be on guard with their black motorcycles and black rifles: Likely paid to guard the place for the ZFA.

The two officers get out of the car, pistols firing in seconds. Rifles fire back.

Max run charge jumps off of the car…violently kicking off one of the bikers.

She tumbles back from the incoming bullets, before getting on the motorcycle.

Several bullets hit the bikers in the heart. They fall dead off their motorcycles.

A bullet hits the second officer's arm. But, he doubles back behind the car to keep firing.

Max speeds on on motorcycle for the warehouse.

A few bikers double back to try to shoot her down. But, she's already too far away for them.

Max cuts around some incoming superdense metal balls. Apparently, the crossbow is on a turntable and can angle down.

She determinedly angles the motorcycle right for the warehouse door, smashing it in.

Dust goes off from the fallen door. Several mechanical whirls are heard.

Coming down the steps…is Machettel: More determined than ever to finish her. She has scanner equipped sunglasses, and mostly liquid metal coated arms under her mostly ripped apart sleeves.

Max tumbles off the motorcycle: Getting up quick, ready to fight.

She calls out, "you upgraded yourself just to kill me cause you were too pathetic to before?"

Machettel mutters determinedly, "no. The ZFA just evened the field. Now we'll have a fight."

Max goes, "yeah? Well, bring it on!"

Machettel jump spin charges for Max: Using her arms as blunt blades.

She doubles back stunned. But, Max tumbles back to her feet.

As she clutches her aching pulsing head… Max mutters dizzily, "nice."

Machettel smirks confidently, "thanks." Max adds, "too bad it won't last for you."

The smirk fades quick from Machettel…as Max with her eyes closed jump tackles her against a metal worktable.

The table crashes over. A oil can and several black crane like robot parts go fly crashing off.

Machettel whirls her arm around at Max. But, she's just as dizzy now.

Max catches her arm, and decks Machettel with her other arm.

With a hand angled at 90 degrees… Machettel surprise attacks her: With a katana blade coming out of her arm.

With her struggling to stay conscious, she doesn't stab Max in the heart. But…it has made a deep dark red cut in her side.

Max groans sharply and violently. She can feel her body pulsing all over in pain from the blade hitting bone.

Machettel looks ready to tear the blade up further.

But, in those few seconds… Max side throw tumbles her whole body over.

She violently slams Machettel against the side of the stairs…taking her out.

Max pulls the blade out from her dark red liquid dripping side.

She shakily gets back up: Leaning on the table on its side for support while clutching her side with a reddening glove over it.

Her vision's a little blurry. But, she's not falling over.

As she's coughing violently some between heaving breathing… She catches sight of the fallen spilled over oil can and the robot parts.

Over communications… Logan calls out, "Max? Max, are you ok? Max!"

Max faintly chuckles assuringly, "I kicked Machettel's ass. That's on me for good and bad. But, I can still walk."

Logan sighs in relief, "thank god. For a second there, I thought you were going to die."

Max sarcastically adds, "you're not getting this bitch away from you, Logan. You're stuck with me for life." Logan faintly chuckles, "there are worse things."

Max is tempted to faintly smile. But…her smile suddenly fades.

Logan checks again, "you ok?"

Max slowly walks over to the motorcycle: Still clutching her side.

Looking frustrated… Max says, "aside from getting last minute built cyborgs after our asses… Yeah. I'll be ok."

Logan sighs deeply. He realizes, "well…that explains kind of easy."

Max mutters uneasily, "yeah. I get it all too well. They're planning something large…while they're observing us through the pawns."

For, across the room…the crane like robot parts are clearly parts of miniature Chinese knockoffs of the Savfiugagssaĸ Pitsortuvoĸ exoskeleton model: Which Max has recognized as faintly seen hints of very similar parts in the cyborg in the car that she looked over…and probably in Machettel's unconscious recently fashioned cyborg body as well.


	17. Episode 17: As with Toy Soldierz

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 17:

One night in the not too distant future, on the edge of Seattle…

Like most any other night, it's raining.

But, past the faint pitter patter of rain... Past the speeding cars... There's a restaurant with a big lit star on top called the Grillway Altair.

It's got kind of a Space Needle look going for it: With wide metal scrap pikes to hold it up with stairs leading up both front and back, and a vent styled roof of dark red with little yellow lights.

Inside, it looks a lot like a planetarium: With big and yellow dim orb lights on dark red stands around glass red screen window like tables against scattered stars over jet black.

And, together at one of the tables is Original Cindy and Tara.

The waiter has recently delivered food on a silver tray. His waiter outfit has a silvery crescent across black.

They both have some buffalo burgers filled to the brim with lettuce and tomato, and sweet potato fries in the middle of the table. Original Cindy is sipping some from her apple martini. Tara ordered a beer.

Original Cindy is in a blue lined mostly black top with faint blue diagonal lines going down it. Tara is in a charred brown looking dress and black high heels.

Original Cindy puts down her glass, looking a little nervous.

She checks, "so...did I come through or what?"

Tara mostly casually says, "long as we're in LGBT friendly territory, I'd sure as hell say so."

Original Cindy comments, "faint chuckle. Look at all the guys and girls getting all loving out here. Original Cindy's got your back."

Even from the dim lighting... She can see bisexual, gay, and lesbian couples at tables: From long silvery haired women to black near shaven haired men and quite a bit in between. Most of them are getting real "handsy down there" and pulling each other close while they got food out.

Tara adds, "thanks."

In the moment... Tara shuffles herself over to Original Cindy around the booth.

She kisses Original Cindy deeply.

Their arms go around each other, pulling each other real close.

Then, after some long minutes, they pull away.

They both smile at each other as Tara goes back to being across from her.

Original Cindy adds, "damn. That was good. Remind me to get you out more often."

Tara slightly chuckles, "you're welcome." Original Cindy adds in kind, "thank you."

Tara adds kind of uneasily, "so, if something blows up..."

Original Cindy mostly assures, "then you got my back. Let's just say though I hope it don't get necessary. You feel me?"

Tara solemnly agrees, "yeah. I do. Let's eat." Original Cindy faintly smiles, "read my mind."

They both faintly chuckle before digging in.

Fifteen or so minutes later...

Their burgers are mostly eaten all the way through...when a thin highly concentrated column of smoke and flying tiny sparking metal pieces goes off through a window across the way.

Original Cindy goes, "what the hell...?"

She starts over to look. But, Tara's words give her pause.

Tara sincerely reasons, "I don't know. But, if Seattle does go to hell, at least I know you going to be up there with Eyes Only: Getting our backs."

Original Cindy turns back, faintly smiling to her.

Assured sounding, she adds, "straight up. Thanks."

With a slight smile, Tara concludes, "you're welcome. Like to sit back down now, or no?"

Original Cindy adds, "sure."

She sits back down with Tara.

They soon both turn back to eating.

But, what they don't know is just how serious the fire is getting.

Around then, several blocks away...

A mob of guys and black and very dark brown trenchcoats are walking up to a military facility: Mostly with black and green caps obscuring their faces in the dark of night.

They're shouting out, "we don't need a implant! We don't bow to ZFA! We don't need a implant! Die, ZFA bastards!"

Some armed military guards stand guard at a metal fence, before some large silvery old fashioned satellite relays.

One of them calls out, "stop right there! Stop, or we will be forced to...!"

The leader of the mob though fires a flare gun right into the guy: Burning him from the inside out, along with a scorching hole forming in the metal fence.

The scream sounds off a alert of its own...as several scrap metal made tanks start to converge from the other side of the fence.

The other guard cries out, "no! ! !"

He shoots down the leader.

He drops the flare gun. But, it only makes the mob madder.

They start wailing on the other guy by numbers alone, making him cough violently. Several shot dead and wounded bodies are lying around.

The military tanks fire cannons at them, decimating most all of them in one shot.

Several members of the mob run like hell.

But, in the military tanks... The teary eyed officers at the controls look just as terrified as them.

The following morning...

Max is in a dark blue formal sports styled shirt with kind of long sleeves and light yellow pockets over white. She's sitting in her chair in the corner, feet up against the windowsill.

She's reading a beaten up tech magazine from 1997 she just found off of the market for four bucks for the hell of it. The cover is of a camera flashing with two robot arms coming out of it. And, it's called Flybot Weekly in faded yellow letters.

Then...there's a knock on the door.

A faintly smiling Max puts aside the magazine on the chair before going to the door.

As she opens the door... She answers, "yeah?"

On the other side is a bike messenger with a darkish green rain jacket, a dark blue cap on, and some hints of light brown hair from under the cap. He asks, "package for Miss Guevera?"

Max's expression quickly changes to unease. For, she hears ticking from the square brown soaked package he's handing to her.

Max quickly concludes, "ok. Here."

She takes the package with one hand to lower it towards the floor. With her other, she quickly signs the form with little mistakes.

In astonishment, the bike messenger says, "wow. I didn't even get to ask."

Max slightly shrugs, "let's just say I used to bike around with packages."

While he's got his attention elsewhere... She stabs the bomb's wires through the package with her knife behind her back.

The ticking instantly stops.

The bike messenger faintly nods, "nice. See you around?"

Max figures coolly, "not likely. But, nice try."

A little uneasily and thankful all at once... The bike messenger adds, "thanks." Max faintly smiles to him, "sure."

She closes the door.

Max annoyedly sighs, as she tosses the stabbed through package against a already cracked window in the back of the apartment: Where another stabbed in bent in package with a metal box and red and blue wires model for a bomb inside of it is.

Both came with little white red lined cards, written out in motor oil and hints of dark red liquid.

One says, "we know where you live. - ZFA". The other says, "silent night, deadly nights... Even you can't huà jiě all our zhà dàn. - ZFA".

A few hours later, into the mid-morning...

Syl is biking through a couple of mostly gray metal fortified alleys, with a kind of large package marked fragile cable fastened to the back of her bike.

She is in her dark blue army jacket, over a top with a thunderstorm rolling in upon some running bright red silhouettes stumbling over themselves. Best thing about it is it's custom made and paid for.

She passes some pickpockets with knives that she's too fast for.

She passes a few guys taking out trash bags for the sector junkyard and some little kids running off to play with a baseball and a bat.

Syl awkwardly smiles in the kids's direction. She keeps going though.

But, when stopping at a red light, she pulls over to a wall and goes to a payphone.

Some eager cars rush around the intersection, honking at each other. Sector Police on black motorcycles pass by them, finding it just as hard to get past as the cars.

From his desk at work... Sketchy's dark yellow cellular phone rings.

He's in a mostly dark brown long sleeved shirt with a big gray blue 10 on it.

He answers, "yeah? Sketchy here. For you and for all your shipping..."

Syl faintly chuckles in amusement, "I'm not ordering, Sketch. But, you better be saving the bedroom for me...and some head."

She whispers on the last part in case someone else is around on his end.

With a faint smile, Sketchy assures her, "always."

Syl adds awkwardly, 'thanks. But, is this a bad time?"

Sketchy insists openly, "for you? Never. I'm quick at the computer anyway. So, I can always make time for you."

Syl comments, "amused chuckle. At least you said what you meant first."

Kind of unsure, Sketchy figures, "okay. I don't exactly get it. But..." Syl mostly assures him, "I wouldn't worry about it. I'll explain it to you when we're both back. How does that sound?"

Sketchy concludes, "sounds good. I love you Syl."

Syl's face is a little red. But, she's also smiling.

Syl says, "ohh. I love you so much, Sketchy. I just called in the middle of a run to see how work is going for you."

Sketchy figures, "good. It's good. But, how is it going with you?"

Syl concludes, "mostly good. Still... With that whole deal with rats and the trigger... Heavy sigh. Normal wants me to keep a police form in case, his number, a car route all picked out... It's really starting to get on my nerves."

Sketchy solemnly voices, "yeah. I understand how that would. But, as much as it is, you know he means well. Right?"

Syl faintly smiles, "sure. I just want him to back off a little. You think you can do that for me?"

Like it's no big deal, Sketchy just says, "done."

With some relief in her voice, Syl adds, "thanks, Sketchy." Sketchy insists, "no problem."

Syl pauses a bit to look at her silvery stopwatch.

Syl concludes lightly, "you're great. But, I got to get back on my run."

Sketchy adds, "thanks."

With a awkward smile, Syl admits, "I always feel that with you. I'll miss you."

Sketchy suggests, "miss you more."

Syl faintly chuckles, "sure: If that's how you want to play. I'll see you later."

She hangs up.

She goes back for the bike, continuing on her hot run.

Back around the block, there's a smoking burned out car.

It's crashed into a storefront, where a run over corpse of a cash register worker lies on the floor.

Several others are running out, coughing violently against the smoke from within.

Light red and silver trucks with hoses as compact fire trucks are coming around the corner.

The medium messy black haired driver in the very dark red jacket is creepily laughing that he's done it, as several Sector cops drag him away in a Sector Police car.

Many onlookers are standing on the sidewalk, sobbing at the disturbing sight.

Some look ready to go up and kill the driver with their own bare hands, when the Sector police are blocking their way and trying to assure them it's over.

In the smashed in windshield is a dented in protest sign in red paint.

It says, "Pro Neurom-Cam = Spy Meatbags; Death to all ZFA!"

At noon, on local channels and computer boxes across the country...

A clip comes up of a banner: With a raised military fist punching through the tearing up Eyes Only logo like it's out of paper, while the US flag just floats up above it all with little fireworks and all.

The banner gives way to a medium gray haired military general in army green.

He says solemnly, "we've waited...sent troops on missions like we should...and watched them get beaten on their asses by a reckless super strong girl and some cyborgs from Hell."

Some stock footage of the attack on Pearl Harbor, a attack on a mostly black chalkboard like and red lined hardware store called Glassel-O-Gog in Paris, floods in Europe, and a Post-Pulse attack on the World Trade Center go by: Only mostly with viciously photo-shopped faces of already dead ZFA members killing soldiers, and Max kicking both sides on their asses.

The general goes on, "now we're fighting back on our own power...and our justly done justice."

The screen cuts back to the raised military fist...which pulls back on itself to show a younger soldier with the same glove. He's wearing a mostly plastic thinly made military cap of grid faint green over faint sky blue: With a lot of little blinking yellow lights coming off of little electrical impulse sensors, and a working neurally connected camera lens built in in the front.

With a creepily happy smile, he calls out, "if you want to really give them hell... Sign in and get your Neurom-Cam17 today."

The clip then cuts to the mostly plastic thinly made military cap on a little white stand, with plenty of surgical cupped wires hanging from it and Neurom-Cam17 in big black letters on it.

From the Eyes Only Rec Room... Original Cindy in her cleavage showing dark red top is shaking her head over it all.

She's at one of the computers, using a blue lined mostly black Eyes Only program to scope out and remove the photo-shopping that looks like a music studio backroom with soundwaves and all.

And, with faintly teary eyes... She's thinking to herself, "damn. If I wasn't seeing right through this bitch for Eyes Only and the world to get them to open their eyes to the real... I'd put the smackdown on the reporters that let this one go out."

Meanwhile... The clip changes over to news stations: Who are currently reporting on it.

Some are downright offended this recruitment program even exists. Some seem ready to go up to the generals behind it and shower them with gifts. That is, if they could afford to go all out like that.

In a newsroom done up in cornstalks wallpaper, there's a curly golden brown haired woman in a black Sector Police like uniform before a dark brown desk. Down below is a logo: The SKM Report in spiky golden letters.

Kind of nervously, she reports, "ever since the Neurom-Cam17 came up, riots and homicides over suspicions of the ZFA starting it up have filled the air."

The scene briefly shows several Sector Police squadrons on tank fortified police cars, driving down streets of scrap metal built huts large and smalls for houses and barns. They're shooting down waves of screaming rioter farmers and businessmen alike, holding up signs that say in red and blue "Neurom-Cams = Devil's Tools!" and "17 Neurom-Cams; 17 world leaders spinning in their graves!".

Tearing up... The reporter continues, "but... Sniffle! I think I speak for the good old South when I say this is all scapegoating for what they're really afraid of: Sector Police stopping crime for good. You know what? Please stop. You're not getting away with murder around these parts any time..."

Then...there's several shots. The reporter stands there, frozen like hell.

She cries out with her hands up, "oh god. Oh god, please! Please don't shoot me! ! !"

In seconds...the Sector Kings and Martinet Report itself goes out.

On KPJK, a certain woman reporter is reporting on site of the wreckage of the storefront from earlier: Microphone in hand.

She says, "since the Neurom-Cam 17 Initiative, this is already turning out to be a sad week for America. Sniffle. National fear is on the rise. Veterans from all over the country are welcoming this change with open arms. Not much comment from the government offices has been given. But, it is clear that Eyes Only and others like them are not happy with...and I quote from mister Eyes Only himself... "A initiative that is only driven by pro-arms military thugs against reason just looking for any excuse to go after the ZFA, and us along with it." It is clear that even if Eyes Only is on to something, the country is going to take a much longer time to recover."

The scene then cuts over to a medium light brown military captain in army green, standing before the same reporter earlier that day on the city streets.

The captain declared, "our children live in fear of cyborg terrorists. This won't go unpunished!"

The reporter was quick to put to question, "Captain Alex Axlor... No one is questioning this. But, might I respectfully ask you something? The captain answered very confidently, "sure. Fire."

The reporter faintly nodded, "ok. What about all the allegations of corruption and...?"

The captain went on a rant, "corruption? Corruption?! Have you seen your own news? The ZFA can look like anyone. And let me tell you something. With all the bullshit they've pulled with our boys... Why aren't you questioning Eyes Only too? Some of their best agents can kill people with a single punch. If you ask me, there's a cyborg among them just waiting to shut us down."

The reporter was just staring at him wide eyed: Not sure what to say next.

Presently... The Wonderful Collective of Companies Reporting network has a short black haired reporter in a light brown business suit before a polished black desk. He has a light mustache and a light beard. Tan window shades are behind him. And, a WCCR logo in a blocky TV set is on screen below.

He concludes solemnly, "this marks a rather tumultuous day for America. Enemies to the left of us, enemies to the right of us. All we can say for our friends on the East Coast is keep your friends close and your enemies as target practice. But, did you know that there's even stranger things going on? Well... I don't think you do. So, let me show you just what is going on."

The scene cuts over to several live screens, where convention cults from The Matrix and Star Trek to Ghost in the Shell, the 1970's The Six Million Dollar Man, and the 1970's The Bionic Woman are gathered around open garbage cans of fire for warmth for their not-so-secret-anymore meetings.

Under their white and black jackets, there's plenty of anime styled costumes, solid colored yellow and red uniforms, prosthetic robot arms covered in rubber in aching swelled up places with dried up dark red liquid, and cheap imitations of implants. Their leaders are reading from worn and weary episode guides and showcasing episodes from their computer boxes like they're messages from God.

The reporter goes uneasily, "yeah: That's no joke. What you have just saw is happening. But, can we really blame them? They look to implants as living proof of their fiction, and they're desperate for a way out of the Pulse like it never happened."

Suddenly bizarrely calm, he finishes his bit, "do I know if they're enemy or friend? Hell no. But, it's just something to think about as we step back and wonder... How far is too far for this battle of the fans? Or, is it just going to fade away like the hippie revolution of the 60's? You make the call, friends. You make the call. And, now for the local weather."

A few hours later, on ground level of the Eyes Only headquarters in Washington...

Max is coming in through the side door, looking to sit back and chill downstairs. But then...she sees Original Cindy by one of the several wooden doors. And, she knows right away something is up.

Max wonders, "ok. What's getting you down?"

Original Cindy contemplates, "along with the rest of the world, Original Cindy has been given a lot of trouble to think on. But, you know... Deep sigh. I think I should leave that up to Logan. He can sure explain it better than Miss Autumn Leaves in there."

Max looks uneasy, "that's how it's going down?"

Original Cindy adds, "afraid so. But, it's not you."

Max figures, "ok. Thanks though." Original Cindy adds, "sure, Boo."

Max turns to go downstairs and leave her to her thoughts. But, she pauses.

She turns back to her, "I'll leave you in your headspace. But, I got to ask: What's her dealio?"

Original Cindy faintly concludes, "oh. She's just beating herself up over something she can't get her head around. Remind you of someone you know?"

Max faintly smiles, "yeah. Now that you bring it up...it kind of does. Later."

Original Cindy faintly smiles back, "right. See you later, Boo."

And then, Max heads to the workbench to go down the tile elevator.

Not far off, behind one of the wooden doors...

Sydney is in a light gray unzipped sweater over a black shirt with a movie poster of Rear Window on it. She's sitting in a mostly wooden dark green cushioned chair. Logan is in a light blue long sleeved shirt, sitting at his wooden desk in his official Eyes Only business office.

Some open files of autopsies are on the desk. And, neither of them look happy.

A teary eyed Sydney somberly admits, "sorry. I still don't know."

Logan looks incredulous, "what's left to know? It's a open and shut case!"

Sydney is trying to gather up her thoughts, "Logan... Heavy sigh. Please don't make this harder on me than it already is. I hate these guys as much as you do. But...maybe they're onto something."

With a mixed sense of unease, Logan says, "sorry. I just don't understand why."

Sydney comments, "well... Least that's something anyway."

Logan just faintly nods, "ok. So... Would it be too much to ask why?"

With a faint smile, Sydney admits, "no. I guess not: Not with you. We're like family."

Logan solemnly says, "sure. I'm here."

Sydney adds, "thank you."

She goes on, "on June 1st, 2009...there was a Pulse. And not even Max, her brothers and sisters, or either of us could stop it. You were lucky to be on a boat when it all happened. Most of us still walk around in fear of another Pulse... Not the least of who include me, my sister, and Duncan. That was even before we found out who set it. Sniffle. Riots were everywhere for months. Without even a computer to get by... I felt empty. I couldn't sleep much. Sometimes, I still have nightmares of bloodied people running. Sniffle! One day, I was just washing up, trying to wash off tears. Then, before I even knew what I was really doing subconsciously... I was suffocating in the sink."

Logan goes wide eyed, "oh god."

Sydney bends over in the chair, letting some tears fall.

After a few long minutes... She looks up.

She concludes nervously, "yeah. That's sure how I felt. But, at least Duncan was there to make sure I was breathing again. Thanks to him and Samantha... I learned the hard way I could move on."

Logan sympathetically concludes, "I can imagine so: Knowing you. It must have been hard."

Sydney solemnly reflects, "yeah. It was. Then, years later... We storm in on Belarus. We're lucky most of us got out alive. Do you really think our chances are going to be any better than before: Without some kind of implant helping us?"

With a faint smile, Logan tries to assure, "oh, I don't think we really need to cross that line. We got a lot more intelligence on the ZFA now. We still have Max and several members of her family on our side. It should be enough. It has to be."

Sydney nervously reasons, "fair point. I just hope you know what you're doing: Because I'm trusting you with keeping the whole country from going to hell again."

Logan concludes just as nervously, "I hope so too."

They offer a sympathetic hand to each other over the desk.

They stay there for quite a bit before Sydney leaves him be. But, she's looking a little better now.

Twenty or so minutes after, in the Eyes Only Rec room...

Max and Logan are sitting by each other, on the ring of couches with the open files before them.

After some long minutes... Max looks to him: Faintly teary eyed over what's been going down, and yet kind of hesitant looking at the same time.

They both say awkwardly, "so..."

Logan faintly smiles: Much to Max's added confusion.

More solemnly, Logan figures, "well... We can't just stop these guys for having the right to bare arms. But..." Max uneasily asks, "yeah?"

Logan reveals, "we've been doing some overnight digging on the Neurom-Cam17 Initiative. Looks as though they've been dying overseas every day in the wake of the latest ZFA attack in Europe."

Max comments nervously, "and yet you're not looking bummed and drunk out of your ass."

Logan faintly chuckles, "I should hope not. There's more to it than you might think."

Max reasons awkwardly, "okay. So...what is it exactly?"

Logan picks up one of the autopsy reports.

It has a clipped on picture of a mid-thirties dark red medium haired guy in a pile of ash in Eastern Germany. He's clutching his head: With hints of seeping out dark red liquid all around under a surgical cut where his mostly buried scalp is.

Logan breaks it down, "we've been having agents in Europe checking out graves. Looks like it's all one big cover up for failed military hopefuls in preliminary testing."

He puts back down the autopsy report.

With some mixed feelings, Max says, "ouch. Don't know if I should feel sorry for them or not. Although... That does make it all the easier for me to go out there and kick them out on their asses."

With a faint smile, Logan pinpoints, "yeah. Figured you'd think so. We even got most of the military stationed at the key bases for the Neurom-Cam17. A military convoy is out at their main base of operations, ready for your orders to storm the place as soon as you get there."

Max faintly beams, "nice. Thanks."

She briefly kisses him. Then, she starts her way back up.

With a faint smile back, Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Max keeps faintly beaming: Blowing a kiss to him as she goes up the tile elevator.

A few hours later, down by the east coast...

The streets are lined with warehouse styled stores, farmer's markets, and simple colored red to yellow flat roofed houses. Faint breezes roll on...over the sight of corporate security in green and red bulletproof helmets taking punched out angry rioters into custody.

Further up, there's a Post-Pulse New York City: Like there was a new Los Angeles and a new San Francisco, constructed on what was left of the reefs of southern California.

It's decked out with billboard covered skyscrapers, with fiberglass laced in wiring and more than seventy floors of room and board.

Some have billboards for Superflex Cool-Aid soda drinks. Some have billboards for ChicksALot: A fast food place with castles out of fried chicken and little red flags.

Max and a team of military officers are scaling up one of the skyscrapers on cables: With her in her signature catsuit and them in black ops uniforms.

It's the headquarters for Neurom Industries: The corporate backers of the Neurom-Cam17. Their slogan is, "Neurom: Where morally questionable neural interfaces are as easy to put in as a CD-ROM."

The military captain is James Cabot, who has mostly brown grayish medium hair.

They're using the billboard emitter panels as cover from security cameras on their way up.

It doesn't take long for them to reach the third to highest floor: Where the floors really start to thin out to a silvery top.

Max signals to one of the more transparent windows.

She lets the military team continue up for a little bit...before swing kicking into the window.

Max tumbles to her feet, back of the mostly black floppy disk styled corridor.

She speed runs around the automatically firing lasers from solid bright green security cameras.

A automatic metal door slides down.

She tumbles under the opening, just before the automatic door slams shut.

Max comes down the next corridor, with fiberglass looking out to the smog tainted white clouds.

Corporate security is closing in: With bright orange bulletproof helmets with bulletproof glass visors, matching bulletproof vests, and specialized shotgun slug armed very dark red targeting rifles.

But, Max is soon decking security guards left and right before they can fire.

Meanwhile, the military officers have set up magnetic charges on the next floor before slightly lowering themselves back down.

The charges soon go off.

Captain James Cabot calls out, "now!"

They swing charge in through the shattering in fiberglass, violently kicking in several incoming backup corporate guards against the walls.

They fall over stunned and bruised in their backs...before becoming easy targets for the military team to just go and punch out.

Then... There's thuds. There's footsteps.

Neurom-Cam17 military caps are on the heads of several middle aged veterans. Surgical wires running down their heads are crudely held in by bolted in wiry blue metal planks. Hints of dried dark red liquid splatters are around their swelled up steroid filled arms and legs, where more wiry metal planks and surgical wires are. Their feet thud on and on: Rifles in both hands. And, their eyes are pulsing red.

Max looks teary eyed. For, a smiling light brown medium haired fat kind of young businessman in the back is holding a jet black remote. And, she knows all too well now what's going down.

Max calls out, "you son of a bitch: Turning military guys into walking toy soldiers at your call just to keep your payday!"

In his cape like white business suit... The businessman just faintly laughs, "Max, Max, Max..."

Max coldly realizes, "you know who I am?"

The businessman pauses the Neurom-Cam17 enhanced veterans with the press of a button.

He figures, "you have yourself quite a reputation, X-5. Even if they're mostly just rumors... It didn't take much. Alina knew. Allan knew. And, so do I."

Max suddenly hits on it.

In black and white... Max was thinking back to facing Alina on a train.

Max commented, "you're good, you know. Had me completely fooled."

Alina tried to wave her off, "you know what? I don't know what you're talking about."

Alina tried to get Max to leave her alone: Even as she asked about how much Lans paid her to give up her father. But, Max just pushed her shoulder to get her to turn around at a certain open door.

Max called out, "hey!"

Alina coldly turned to face her, "you'll never prove anything."

Max coldly asked, "did you hate him that much or was it just the money?"

With satisfaction, Alina muttered lowly, "it was both, all right?! It was both."

Presently...

Max faintly smirks bittersweetly. She adds, "well... I can think of one more guy I sure as hell can live without. You're Dan Lans, aren't you?"

Dan Lans says with some satisfaction, "you're as good as they say. I'm his oldest son. There's irony for you. You and Eyes Only put my father out of business. Now, I'm putting you all out of business for the big boys and bailing him out on a lot of cash."

Then... The military team comes in: Rifles out, even with some of them clutching their sides from shotgun slugs. Corporate security is all taken out back a ways.

Captain James Cabot orders, "drop your weapons: Now!"

Max starts to call out, "wait: They're not...!"

The Neurom-Cam17 enhanced soldiers go to open fire. They're grinning in hate for Eyes Only, even though it's not really them in control of their own bodies.

The military team opens fire first. But, the Neurom-Cam17 enhanced veterans just rip off pieces of ceiling to pull down as cover: Right on top of them.

Dan Lans freezes for a bit.

Then, realizing he's still a bit of ways away from the guns... He runs for it.

Max speed jumps over and off the ripped off piece of ceiling coming down, going after him without a second thought.

Most of the military team is bent over, clutching their dark red liquid dripping sides and coughing violently.

Captain James Cabot and his lieutenant barely tumble away from the incoming shots. The bullets pierce right through the thin metal...and into the rest of the team: Killing them instantly.

Dan Lans runs up some stairs outside to a helicopter pad: The breeze strong out at this level. The jet black helicopter has dark green helicopter blades and the word Neurom across it in bright green.

Max is gaining on him.

But, Dan Lans takes out a specialized targeting rifle of his own.

As soon as the door opens... He fires.

Max doubles over, coughing violently.

With a vicious grin... Dan Lans looks to her.

He keeps pressing buttons: Getting Captain James Cabot and his lieutenant violently punched against the wall.

From his faint view of them from outside, it looks like the Neurom-Cam17 enhanced soldiers are going to finish them.

But then... Max is soon violently punching down Dan Lans in the stomach: Making him vomit and cough violently against the helicopter pad.

The remote gets caught in the breeze. But, Max interestingly quickly catches it before it falls off.

She presses the button for standby mode: Forcing the Neurom-Cam17 enhanced soldiers to go to sleep and stop attacking through their wired in nervous systems.

Dizzily... Dan Lans looks up at her incredulously.

He wheezes, "how...violent cough...the hell did...violent cough...you...?!"

Max faintly grins.

She highlights confidently, "even going in... I figured you were going for accuracy over brain power. Logan kind of talked me into it. But, especially with trying to bite my stilo to kick me on my ass... I thought it was better to carry one this time. Looks like I was right."

She reveals that the vest she's usually got on her catsuit was actually swapped out for a identical looking bulletproof vest: With a shotgun slug lodged in mid-way.

Max adds insult to injury, "and now that I got your controls away from you and your pathetic ass, we're going to see if they're going to lockup or a recovery program for second chances."

Dan Lans has already passed out. But, Max stands there: Grinning down at his passed out body.

That night, up in Logan's apartment...

On the TV, KPJK news is on the air.

There's a squad of ten Sector Police cars, with Sector Police and military teams bringing in struggling rioters and corrupt veterans.

And before it all, the reporter from earlier discloses:

It looks like Eyes Only has done it again. The Neurom-Cam17 Initiative has been closed. More than fifty captains and generals across the country are being brought in for questioning on several charges of falsifying records, wrongfully implicating a Eyes Only operative, and cruel inhumane testing on human soldiers. Hundreds of recently recruited soldiers have been brought in for psychiatric evaluation due to the disturbing results of the implant in question.

The military has been left torn by this conspiracy, leaving millions in shock and uncertainty about leaving national security completely in the hands of Eyes Only.

Neurom Industries and other companies in the east coast of course deny all allegations. But, assets of Neurom Industries are expected to be liquidated in a few days.

Riots have mostly died down in celebration of the news. But, there are reports of a dangerous rise of black market Neurom-Cam17 implants falling into the hands of what is being dubbed as "a Battle of the Fans". And, police reports have confirmed most southern cities and at least twenty more cities already falling to convention cults.

Only time will tell what side they're really on: The ZFA or their own.

Logan turns off the TV.

He deeply sighs, as he goes over to the dining room.

Max is at the table, back in her dark blue formal sports styled shirt.

Chicken parmesan with penne and wine glasses are ready on the table. The white wax candles are lit on candle stands. But, Logan doesn't look all that great: Even though he prepared it all tonight.

Max asks anyway, "you ok? Dinner isn't exactly getting hotter over here."

Logan sits down next to her.

He faintly sighs, "honestly, I'm not sure what to think. The jungle is still out there. But, somehow...the world feels like a very different jungle."

As she starts eating... Max uneasily pauses.

She adds, "sounds like me when I found out who set off the Pulse were cyber-freaks all along."

Logan starts to eat. He pauses though.

Sounding more self assured... He concludes, "yeah. That can sure do a number on anyone's view. But...you sure you're ok?"

Max figures, "not always. But, thanks." Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Max faintly smiles, "yeah. But, I'm seeing through it all: One bitch after another."

They both faintly chuckle.

Logan points out, "you know that sounds so wrong."

Blushing a bit... Max says, "sorry. That wasn't what I meant. I mean we've been out this far: Start to finish, one war after another. It shouldn't be all that different. But, every time, a lot is. But, even when missions got between us, we made it out ok."

Logan faintly smiles, "can't really argue with my revved up girl for long."

Max snarkily smirks, "you better not."

They get a faint chuckle out of that before they both turn back to eating.

Max though does add something else, "oh yeah. And, just remember: If you die on me first, I'll kick your ass."

Logan comments lightly, "how can I not if you keep bringing it up?"

Max faintly rolls her eyes. She adds, "maybe not. But, I'm not "too" much of a bitch. Am I?"

Logan mostly assures, "no. Not at all. Only when we fight." Max faintly grins, "good."

Logan faintly smiles back as he drinks some wine. Max drinks some of hers.

The next night...

Max is up on the Space Needle with Syl, looking down at the dark streets with her.

Under her jet black jacket, Max is in her ripped and torn Max 9000 Kicking Hal Ass top. Under her dark blue army jacket, Syl is in her foggy white T-shirt with the halo on it.

Thinking back to the payphone... Syl shakily reflects, "I used to think every bit helps. But, what's to stop more military rats from blowing it all on recruitment plans? What is even the point?! Heavy sigh. Hard sniffle! We keep shooting down rats. But all they do is keep coming. How do you keep going, Max? How can I?"

Max nervously turns to her, "deep sigh. Syl... Unless you're down with what I think of the world... I'm really not good with this kind of thing. I'll only get you feeling down."

Syl lightly reasons, "well...at least you thought about it."

Max faintly smiles, "sure."

Syl openly considers, "still... Maybe the world's got one big silvery lining to it after all."

Max looks kind of surprised by this. She asks curiously, "really?"

With a faint grin... She lays it out for her, "if the ZFA is shot down for good...wouldn't most every rat they're behind one way or another die with them?"

With faintly amusement, Max comments, "now there's a thought."

A kind of confused Syl wonders, "what? You don't think we can kill them all?"

With a faint grin... Max solemnly highlights, "no. Maybe we can. I say thanks for the wishful thinking. But, I invite you to prove it's more than just wishful thinking."

Syl adds lightly, "deal."

They bump fists together to kind of make it official.

And, they sit there for who knows how long: Just taking in all the streetlights they can see and what little calm of the night is left before the coming of the next rainstorm.


	18. Episode 18: Black Birdz and Stones

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 18:

A few weeks later, down south…

The scrap metal huts are barricaded with more metal. Shotguns and screams pierce the sky.

Smoke is everywhere. Barrels of pesticide and oil are going off like firecrackers.

Meanwhile, many children and animals have been given sleeping injections to ride it all out: Adding more fuel to the convention cults and their cry for revolutions.

Max is in her jet black catsuit: Cellular phone in hand.

She tumbles for a tool shed in the back of one of the metal huts.

She stands there stealthily, as military troops pass by the shed.

With a heavy sigh... She soon calls up Logan.

On the other end, in a long sleeved dark green shirt... Logan questions tensely, "yeah?"

Max mutters, "I'm calling cause I'm this close to kicking these subhuman soldiers off their asses and killing them myself."

Logan tries to puts it delicately, "I know they've done questionable things. I know this is really not easy on you." Max figures, "damn straight it isn't. Knowing what creeps down in sectors down south can do to their kids... Sniffle! All of this turns my stomach."

Logan solemnly adds, "I know. But, remember the goal. We find the informant, we find the key to attacking the Neurom-Cam17 black market at the source. I sent you on this mission because you're the best agent we got. Now...you think you can go on?"

Sounding more assured, Max faintly smiles, "yeah. I think so. Thanks."

Logan comments lightly, "you're welcome."

Max comments lightly, "always nice to know I'm the best kicking ass agent you got. Later."

Logan faintly chuckles as she hangs up.

Max puts away the cellular phone. She fast walks around some rustled bushes.

She comes out to a street.

With her cat like eyes... She sees up ahead a convention cult with solid colored red uniforms and mostly pale and dark brown militia uniforms is coming: With silver combat belts and sashes, black market Neurom-Cam17 military caps covering the sides of their heads, hints of surgical wires under their mostly gray black jackets and torn up jeans, and shotguns remodeled to look like phaser rifles.

State military forces are using ripped away tank fortified police cars as cover. But, the car wrecks are getting weaker with shotgun slugs lodging into them by the minute.

One of them wonders uneasily, "maybe we should fall back? We can't hold this position for...!" The captain mutters back, "no! There's nowhere to go: It's them or us now!"

They're firing back with pitch black jagged edged machine guns.

Sparks fly from their surgical wires as several members of the convention cult are shot dead.

Max jumps over a scorched police car: Using its trail of smoke as cover to slip past the soldiers.

The leader in a solid colored red uniform calls out, "evasive pattern Delta Five! I'm going for the captain." Several members call back, "yes, sir!"

Some convention cult members fall back for some scrap metal huts, shooting as they go. A few soldiers are shot down as they try to shoot them first.

Some split up to come back around.

One gets shot. Another comes from behind a soldier and decks him down.

They toss some grenades at the military: Their cover up in smoke, debris, and sparks of fire.

In the midst of it all, the leader run charges for the captain: Punching him out.

The five soldiers left around him punch him down. He's coughing violently on the ground.

As they go to shoot though... Another convention cult comes for a pass.

They're in black overcoats, with stripper bras bright red to green and greasy white undershirts. Most of them got a rifle for a leg with a metal foot on the barrel end to walk on.

In concert, the second convention cult tumbles at the soldiers and the two convention cult members from the back: Spin firing their rifle legs from the ground and riddling them with bullets while dodging their bullets and bullet shells.

Max runs off the wall of a large metal hut, tumbling back to her feet.

She keeps running: Struggling to focus only on the objective, with all the gunfire and screams constantly reminding her of convention cults and soldiers.

Twenty minutes later...

Max finds a nearly broken off hanging yellow rimmed green sign post that says "Sinner Street".

She pushes aside the pole and several fallen in scorched walls.

Max is about to call Logan again.

She sees a body with dark red liquid. And, no one seems to be coming out of the wreck.

But, with her acute hearing... She hears breathing: In the basement, under all the wreckage.

She pushes away the metal door in the way, propped against the stairway.

Max walks down the gray rug covered stairs.

She knocks on the metal door before her.

From the other side... A woman's voice asks nervously, "cult or friend?"

With a faint impatient roll of her eyes... Max comments, "if you're the informer, you sure have a funny way of showing you're on the level. It's Max."

The door swings open: Unlocked via electrical system and sliding back little metal bars.

She walks into the dimly lit room.

Turning around in her chair is a teary eyed woman named Acantra, with kind of long curly red hair. She has a Neurom-Cam17 military cap around the sides of her head...and dark red cuts down her arms and legs where surgical wires still remain.

The rugged floor has drips all around the chair from the crying she's been doing.

A Borg costume and a episode guide are torn up across the room. But, the pale grayish skin rubber hand gloves are still on her hands. And, the computer screen is lit in a Borg ship like wallpaper.

Max looks wide eyed at her. She goes, "oh god. What the hell did they...?"

Acantra sadly admits, "it wasn't. I... Sniffle! I never should have..."

She shakily looks around.

Max looks around. But, she doesn't hear or see anything around.

All she sees is restlessness in this woman's eyes, and no sign of dehydration or of overdose.

Max solemnly realizes, "so you realized it wasn't at all what you were hoping for. You realized it's playing with your mind. And, you tried to kill yourself over it."

Acantra nods, as some more silent tears fall.

She breaks it down, "one for left hemisphere, one for right. It was...sniffle...to get around turning into a vegetable. What good is it when I see fire ants, my ex-husband with a shotgun shooting me...?!"

Max tries to keep her calm, "it's ok. I don't see him. We're getting out of here."

Acantra shakily faintly smiles.

She then points to the screen. She starts to say, "it's...all there, Max. Found all we..."

Private flight plans, financial transactions with overseas companies, quantities of surgical wires and Neurom-Cam17... Plenty is up there.

Max gets a CD from the outer space themed computer box. The info disappears from the screen.

She solemnly adds, "great. You can tell us more later when..."

Then... She hears faint mechanical whirls from above.

Max calls out, "let's go!"

Max pockets the CD in a case she's just put it in.

She goes to help her out of the chair. But, the woman is groaning violently: Clutching her aching head as the sound of a chainsaw rings in her mind.

The cyborg tears through the ceiling with his kind of wearing out rubber hands.

And, with two rifle legs coming out of the hole... He shoots up the chair and the computer box.

Max tries to swiftly tumble kick away the chair. But, the cyborg is too fast for her.

She finds herself doubling over and coughing violently against the fallen chair. Hints of dark red liquid are down her chest and ankles.

The computer box explodes. A splatter of dark red liquid is briefly seen across the dying screen.

The last thing Max sees in the smoke is the ZFA cyborg going to shoot her.

But, as she falls unconscious... She hears footsteps of someone walking away.

Several hours later, back in Logan's apartment...

Max finds herself on Logan's couch: With several ice packs and herself mostly covered in reddened casts under her catsuit.

She tries to sit up. But, she quickly finds sharp shooting pain.

She kind of nervously lies back down with some violent groans.

Her wounds are healing kind of quick. But, it'll be another hour or so until she can get up.

Logan is sitting there across from her in a pulled up chair.

He says, "hey." She weakly smiles, "hey yourself."

Logan points out grimly, "you know, we almost couldn't get you out. I was worried about you."

He's shaken. But, he's trying to hide it and kind of failing at it.

Almost shakily, Max figures, "yeah. Good thing the ZFA doesn't know how long I can hold out on breathing. For now anyway." Logan adds, "looks like."

Teary eyed, Max reasons, "it's not like I wasn't going to get him to go down hard. Damn ZFA guy was faster."

Logan concludes, "must be Neurom-Cam17 combined with whatever ZFA hardware they got. Even Sebastian knew that would be more trouble than it's worth."

Max figures, "well, it was. What about him?"

Logan reveals, "he was found several miles out. Looks like a case of neural overload."

Max bittersweetly figures, "looks like it was more trouble for both of us. Even the ZFA wouldn't turn themselves into lab rats for that kind of thing."

Logan confirms uncomfortably, "true. But, that's not all we found."

Max assumes, "she's dead."

Logan concludes, "yeah. And, that's not even the worse part. The disc was shot up along with your catsuit." Max mutters, "damn."

Logan offers considerately, "yeah. I understand if you'd rather be alone."

Max figures, "thanks. But...stay with me?" Logan just faintly smiles, "ok."

He starts to just sit there.

But... Logan strikes on a thought, "still... If there's anything you can remember..."

Max recalls, "actually...I remember most of the dealio. I caught some when it was still up. She told me some. You know."

Logan highlights, "faint chuckle. Well, now I know. Maybe then it wasn't a complete loss. I can get a pad. And, you can tell me all of what you know."

Max admits, "was kind of hoping you would. But, I also don't want to keep to myself like this."

Logan figures, "sure. I'll be back with a pad. Don't go anywhere." Kind of snarkily, Max comments back, "sure. Like I got much of a choice."

As he goes over to his desk, Logan faintly chuckles back.

As dawn gives way to day...

After going over what Max remembers... It turns out black market Neurom-Cam17s are mostly bought in pairs so as to not completely overwhelm the users. One for the left hemisphere, one for the other. One with flared up imagination, one with a flared up logic center.

It's all probably connected through a network of computer boxes to theoretically balance out the two hemispheres between connected people. But, even that's been with limited success.

Still... Max and Logan have put together a good enough lead to go on to shut it all down.

The Eyes Only private plane is flying down for Australia.

The islands have been covered over in glass habitat domes.

Coastal waters have gotten worse over years of unchecked smog in the sky.

Large rock pools and trampled down ruins of solar panels and houses are plenty along the catacomb like coasts. Sand colored blue ring octopuses and jellyfish have washed up with the high tide.

Over time, whales and sharks have even forced open their own tunnels from one pool to another.

Inland though, there is much more than rock pools to see.

It goes from rings of mucky swampland, deserts with groves of flowery wattles, rainforests with giant trees, and copper lined mine entrances to dirt roads, docks, helicopter and private jet landing pads with vertical wind tunnel styled gold lined metal towers, little apartment like mostly gray and light blue hotels for visitors, stone carved villages of aboriginal tribes. Crocodiles, platypuses, snakes, emu, kookaburras, and red to grey to antilopine kangaroos are scattered from national park to national park.

Weather planes have cleared the skies. But, by the time they reestablished contact with the United Kingdom, not even most Australians thought the coastal beaches were worth saving.

There's labs in blocky painted glass domes, with projects like grown meat and iron ore textiles.

They have flags of Australia, Japan, and the United Kingdom painted across most of them. But, Australia's coat of arms is on every door. So are yellow warning signs in many languages in black of "no unchecked electronics or computers allowed within 50 m", "no unchecked internet use or computer use allowed without security clearance", and "no unchecked suitcases or bags allowed within 50 m".

Even all the dirt roads have warning signs down them, like winding roads to a amusement park that's never going to get made. They go from warning of deadly snakes, mosquitoes, high winds at night, and undetonated missile warheads to "anyone with a EMP weapon will be shot on sight", "anyone with a bazooka will be shot on sight", and "anyone driving a tank on land here is extremely inadvisable, and we're not liable for stupidity: Your own fault if you crash into the ocean, d***head!".

From a window... Max is in her ripped dark blue sleeveless top with the motorcycle light like yellow strips. Somehow, even if her catsuit wasn't all shot up for now, it seemed fitting to her.

And, as she's looking out to it all with her cat like eyes... She's thinking to herself:

Australia.

Faint uneasy chuckle. It was sure to come up sooner or later.

They got lucky with survival. But, even with a lot of guys running on liquid natural gas and nature preserves...it all went down hard from there.

Girls and boys were crashing their parents's parties, hunting down bastards and idiots all over the west and east coasts, and getting high. Can't really say I blame them.

Still...they were all fighting for survival and to chill. Makes sense some things had to go down.

It sure as hell wasn't making it any better for the Australian Greens. Hell, it wasn't until Mother Nature had them on the run that they all stopped fighting to bunker up down under and rebuild.

Now the girls and boys play and shoot hard. Corporate men are corporate men. And, the families up in their gold towers are fighting just to stay together and keep a eye on black market dealios.

With all of this, you know what's really bumming my ass out?

That we're on a mission to take down the Neurom-Cam17 for good, and the best lead we got is some names of guys deep in black market RNA from Dr. Tanaka's recombinant DNA pet project that's ended up all the way here: Right back to corporate men looking for more than just commerce.

Moderate sigh.

I get not all commerce is just commerce. But, what happened to good old commerce: Where no one's depressed, and it's all good?

Faint chuckle. I'm just worrying over one no big dealio.

Least Sydney is up there in Japan with some agents to get ConGen2's backs in all of this.

It doesn't help that I almost got killed. But, that's gotten kind of typical with me and the ZFA.

Every time though, I come back to kick ass. That's sure something good out of it.

Still... It's what I keep telling myself. Someone up there doesn't want me happy.

But, if God is real and I ever meet God... Faint chuckle.

I don't give a damn what Logan thinks. I'm kicking God's monolithic ass for all the crap I've gone through in my life.

God can go back to looking down at the world easy. So, why shouldn't I get him or her some kicking ass "commerce" to keep him or her real?

A few hours later...

Max and Charim are walking down a dark cavern. But, they're not alone.

A Eyes Only agent named Ben Rembern is leading the way. He has jet black streaked dark brown medium hair. He wears a dark yellow biker vest under a grayish brown jacket, has muscular arms, and has a sleekly thin mostly dark gray flashlight out with a silver rim.

The cave openings to more senior run cities have plastic wrap to hold up yellow and orange warning signs with little light yellow LEDs. Gold towers glimmer like trees of gold against the darkness.

But, the more they keep walking on, the more distant the plastic wrap becomes.

Charim is in her light blue overcoat, shivering a little.

Max is in a open mostly black kind of thin coat. But, she isn't shivering.

Soon, glimmers of gold are left behind.

They're passing long red and blue strips of lights.

Crumpled up receipts, black greasy burger wrappers, and dark red liquid stained paper bags are scattered to the cave floor. And, the sounds of cheers, screams, and big guns firing echo over it all.

Charim uncomfortably mutters, "Kuso ̄ . I haven't seen it yet, and I already hate the place."

With a kind of thick voice, Ben Rembern comments, "be grateful you didn't have to live in one. I did. I only got out a year ago." Charim nervously says, "sorry."

Ben Rembern insists, "it's ok. You didn't know."

A little uneasily, Max figures, "not that I'm not all for seeing through this underground bitch. But, if you hated the Australian underground that much, why didn't you go on the run sooner?"

With a faint amused laugh, Ben Rembern figures, "oh, you'll see: If the smell and the wrappers don't already give it away."

Max, Charim, and Ben Rembern come to Karm-Ice city.

Charim mumbles in Japanese: Suddenly being hit with the stench of many years of human sweat and garbage, and trying to breathe easier under her overcoat.

Drinking, smoking, women with whips and leather bound slaves, men with whips and leather bound slaves, cheaply made iron and gold go carts, silvery blue to iron wheeled gun turrets with driver seats to get around in, netball and Australian football, one room b-movie lots, and bedrooms with black blinds and lots of moaning and groaning of the sexual kind go on for miles and miles. Takeout bags from Burger Fuel to Pie Face are plenty. Rock tunes, electronic, and metal rock thunders under the stalactites. Yet, aside from all the whippings and shooting, everyone seems extremely bizarrely healthy.

Piles of radiated trash are on specially marked construction site like incinerator circles striped red and black. Lockers and red and yellow tiled floors line the light blue barred gladiatorial arenas.

Mostly muscular men and women in dark red and blue stripper outfits decked out in corporate bumper stickers are walking around the rugged pavement. They got light green and blue rifles, and gold portable TV style RNA realigners on their wrists via metal straps with two fold out injector needles.

With a groan, Max mutters, "oh god. When this mission is over, I need a bath."

Ben Rembern faintly remarks, "not why I left. But, I hear that."

Charim weakly figures, "I'd take a rock pool over this. At least the water's better on my biochemicals than this smog." Max faintly chuckles to herself.

Ben Rembern figures, "you're one weird agent." Charim nervously wonders, "you think so?"

Ben Rembern highlights, "it's ok. I've lived with horror stories most of my life: No f***wits f**** me up no more."

With a faint smile, Max adds, "nice. Kind of same here."

Kind of off put and kind of not, Charim adds, "thanks."

Max suddenly realizes something: Most everyone is stopping to look Ben Rembern's way.

Max snarkily asks, "what? They haven't seen girl agents before?"

Ben Rembern explains, "it isn't you. Down here, I had myself a reputation as a gladiator. It's not me no more. But, legends never really die. You know?"

Max faintly nods, "guess so. Well Mister Legend, I'm getting something to eat."

Ben Rembern reasons, "I'll go get some information out of some diehard gladiator fans. See if I can shake something loose. The sooner I'm out, the sooner I sleep more."

Max concludes, "sounds good. You coming, Charim?"

Charim comments, "no. I'm going to go with him. I've had more than enough food poisoning, thank you."

With a faint shrug, Max says, "sure. Just thought I'd offer." Charim adds, "okay."

Charm and Ben Rembern head for the gladiator arenas. Max heads for a Burger Fuel joint.

A hour or so later, further up...

In these youth run cities, there's no real politics: Only gladiators, and matches to settle things.

Ben Rembern has recently found a guy who knows where to find Mother Solidare: The one Eyes Only is looking for. But, he has challenged him to a match. And, he'll only tell him if he wins.

He's a not so well known gladiator named Andy Kam. He has long white hair and red shoulder pads over a very dark blue striper outfit and a matching biker vest.

They're in a arena with dark red liquid tipped yellow spiked dark blue boxing gloves. And, they both have kind of deep cuts down their sides.

Hundreds of young people are gathered around the arenas to watch with not much better to do.

Ben Rembern punches him down in the side, making him cough violently against the bars with dark red liquid starting to drip down his side.

Ben Rembern stands there. He reluctantly points out, "I could save you a lot more pain if you give up. But, I'm just wasting breath on f***ing pity. Aren't I?"

Andy Kam surprisingly high kicks him from the side, smashing him to the floor.

He then grabs him in his dazed state and elbows him violently back down.

Max and Charim in the crowd look nervously out to the fight. The crowd is in a uproar.

With his arms up in the air, Andy Kam shouts, "yeah!"

He calls out, "yeah! I'm going to be the next f***shit burn master! And, I'm going to make that girl with strap-ons there my T&A pleasure doll."

Max glares back at him.

She angrily mutters, "all right: That's it!"

Charim worriedly turns to her, "wait!"

Turning back to her, Max scoffs, "you're really with that son of a bitch?"

Charim sharply figures, "no! Jigoku nashi! But, just walking in there for...!"

She goes to pull her back. But, Max dazes her down.

Max uneasily says, "sorry. I had to do it."

She walks right into the arena, kicking away some bodyguards in red stripper outfits.

Ben Rembern and Andy Kam are both on their feet, both circling around each other and holding onto the bars to come for another pass at the other.

Then though... Max decks Andy: Knocking him out for the count.

Some murmurs, loud boos, and unease come from the crowd.

Ben Rembern starts to point out, "I know he was a waste of good air. But..." Max figures, "yeah. And, you would've been out if it wasn't for me."

More bodyguards come into the arena, along with a judge decked out in dark yellow pads like a football goalie and a set of his own spiked dark blue boxing gloves. The crowd cheers and roars at this.

Ben Rembern hurls a bodyguard at the floor. He punches another against the bars, dazing him.

Max jumps at the judge, catching his head with both legs in mid-air to bang it hard against the bars as she flip lands on her feet. The judge falls over, knocked out easy.

She side kicks the dazed bodyguard into the other two, knocking the second out of the arena and knocking him out against pavement with cuts around the sides of his head.

The cheers and roars get louder. Max faintly smirks back as she stands there.

At a near whisper, Max says, "so...what's the dealio with your male ego?"

A hour or so later, up in a one room judge's office...

Max is sitting on the dark yellow metal desk with her knife. Black blinds are all parted away.

And yet sitting before her...are several pre-teen girls with red to dark blue one piece swimsuits: Most of them with fairly long black hair some deep dark red cuts, one with heavy lashes down her arms and curly medium dark blond hair, and all looking like they were crying their eyes out before they came.

With a light gesture in the air with her knife... Max says, "...and remember: It's better to stab the guy in the ribs than just stabbing him in the arm."

One of the girls with black hair says awkwardly, "umm...what if you want the d***head to die?"

Max faintly smirks, "guess that really is up to you." The girl adds, "thank you."

Max figures, "sure. All right. Class is over. So go. Kick them in their asses."

The girls faintly smirk back before leaving: Each with a sharp piece of a stalactite with them.

Max thinks to herself tiredly, "that was the third class I had. Moderate sigh. You know, this sounded a hell of lot easier in theory. But, so did..."

Now standing behind her... Ben Rembern remarks, "how is your hasty ego?"

Max admits kind of awkwardly, "not so good. If I wasn't coming off as a queen of kicking ass for the girls, I'd kick all these guys's asses for them. Then I'd kick your ass for not telling me sooner."

With a faint smile, Ben Rembern points out, "well, unless you want another match down here..."

Max faintly rolls her eyes, "whatever." She's quick to add, "you're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Deadly certain, Ben Rembern voices, "I don't like too much violence. It's distasteful and a waste. That's why I left. But, you're... Well, you're interesting."

Max sarcastically comments, "yeah. Thanks. How is Charim holding up?"

Further back, near the parted blinds... Charim is sitting on a black wheeled chair. She's finding it hard to look at Max. But, she isn't glaring at her: Just teary eyed.

Ben Rembern figures, "shaken. But, it looks like she knows you fairly well not to take it harder."

With mixed relief, Max figures, "yeah. All my friends know this bitch well. Thanks."

Ben Rembern figures, "that's ok. I was f***ed up a lot growing up."

Sounding kind of amused, Max adds, "also story of my life. How is the signal down here?"

Looking a little confused, Ben Rembern answers, "fair. Why?"

Max lightly brushes it off, "hey. I'm just looking to call a friend in Eyes Only."

Not long after...

Max is standing behind some blinds, talking on her cellular phone.

On the other end, in a reddish orange buttoned sweatshirt over dark green... Original Cindy starts to suggest, "well, I ain't seeing how it's all one big dealio. You just go put the smackdown on..."

Annoyed sounding, Max interjects, "I did. Now I'm their queen bitch, cause it's legal or something just cause I kicked the judge on his ass."

Original Cindy mutters, "damn. Now that is whack."

Max adds, "yeah. Straight up. So, bottom line: How do I beat this bitch?"

Original Cindy answers, "well, Original Cindy's gotta think on it." Kind of impatiently, Max goes, "okay."

After a bit... Original Cindy considers, "you know, maybe you should get a death bed: Yours. Now I know what you're already thinking. But, I don't mean a real one."

Max comments back, "nice idea. Except I'm no one's lady." Original Cindy adds, "still..."

A wide eyed Max goes, "oh god. You think I should?"

Original Cindy figures, "only a little. Although...you do have that mission you're on."

Max reasons, "ok. This better be good."

A little uneasy... Original Cindy considers openly, "well... So long as you haven't told anyone in town about you being a X-5 bred sister... It's not all that complicated to stage it on the real mission."

Max faintly smirks, "sure sounds like one awesome solitary bail out. Thanks."

Smiling back from her end, Original Cindy adds, "not a problem. Who's your girl?"

Max slightly chuckles.

Original Cindy says, "for real. Later, Boo." Max adds, "later."

She hangs up.

Thirty five minutes later...

After going through corporate contacts in Karm-Ice with the threat of challenging their bodyguards to a match if they don't answer truthfully... Max had not only found where their lead is, but when and where the supplies for black market RNA come in.

Apparently, with so many matches among themselves and liking fast food so much, no one in the more youth run cities has thought to threaten any corporate contacts they've met with.

Still... The black market RNA encompasses more than just realigners. Even Logan already knows taking away RNA realigners down here would be a death sentence: Thanks to Ben Rembern's firsthand experience in the Australian underground.

What Max and her team have found is the black market RNA market is worse than Eyes Only thought. RNA is being used to create genetic viruses at a price that overwhelm DNA to the point of causing rapid moving cancer to ship over to Japan, India, South America, and at least several big criminal organizations: Which most every corrupt company in Japan is all too ok with.

In turn, Max goes to see Mother Solidare with just Ben Rembern: Passing themselves off as criminals who just want to make arrangements for "their Big Eye in the sky". And, with all the Australian dollars from the judge's office, that isn't very hard to pull off.

Just before this... In black and white... She thinks over to a recent conversation with Charim.

Max had asked, "you ok?"

Charim faintly sighed, "not by much. I only wanted to protect you. And what do I get? I get punched." Max solemnly said, "sorry."

After some awkward silence... She said kind of blatantly, "I wouldn't have if you hadn't tried to hold me back. You know, impulse and reflex...from a genetically enhanced girl power killing machine."

Charim wiped away some of her faint tears.

She then faintly smiled, "yeah. That helps. Thanks." Max faintly smiled back, "sure."

Presently...

Mother Solidare has a metal chair with a black skull against red, shoulder length dark purple dyed hair, a dark red veil covering her face, and large silvery black headphones with gun barrels in the sides to shoot with. She's also got a judge in her pocket in a town twenty minutes away.

In a shrill tone from a voice sympathizer... She creepily cheerfully tells, "well, f*** me dead! If your boss wants in... Go to Dr. Zor Nukam. He and his staff is just ****ing brilliant at methods of transmogrifying RNA. For months, he's been going for "the next level" in black market RNA."

Max is very shaken by the last part. But, she hides it well.

With a fake smile... She says, "we got to get back to our boss. But, I think we can do business."

Max left the number of the judge on a piece of paper for her before they left. It's not like the number is going to matter tomorrow anyway.

Almost two hours later...

Charim, Max, and Ben Rembern are coming up on a underground lake.

Dome like tan grayish rock walls surround it. A metal platform is in the middle of the darkish water, with a big dark yellow metallic computer terminal at the center with black and red swirled see through glass case compartments for DNA vials inside its sides. A kind of long catwalk goes out to it.

Hints of skulls and bones glimmer in the waters all around the platform. And, giant ripples of blobs keep circling around. Nothing about this looks natural.

Dr. Zor Nukam is sitting in a dark red cushioned metal recliner, laughing to himself like mad. He has messy light brown hair barely over his shoulders. He wears a white lab coat that reeks of muck.

He gloats to himself, "yes. In just a few hours, my RNA fused DNA will be ready to show the wild who's really king: Me! Laugh! And, no one but me will know such majestic monsters can't be controlled until the wankers that bought it are choking on death. And by then, I'll be rich in RNA, fresh water to wash in, and more than enough henchmen to circle my throne! Laugh!"

With some amusement, Max remarks, "well... Aside from a scientist whack sounding all drunk on his ass... That's some refresh. Thanks for making things all the easier for us to kick your ass."

Charim and Ben Rembern faintly smile.

Dr. Zor Nukam vociferates off, "drunk?! Laugh! What is a king...without his faithful pets?"

Max, Charim, and Ben Rembern are fast walking down the catwalk.

But, suddenly...monster jellyfish start coming around the catwalk.

Their purple pinkish and dark reddish brown tentacles are as thick as stringy whale blubber, giving off electric sparks from their pulsing ghostly gray gelatinous umbrella like bells.

They pull themselves onto the catwalk: Hungry for bodies they're so accustomed to getting. They're holding gallons of water in their mostly closed umbrella like bells like closing in mini-blimps.

Max says, "oh crap." Charim mutters, "Kuso ̄ . Go!"

With a deep breath... Charim turns into a humanoid gush of water: Knocking back one of the monster jellyfish and sending it back into the depths.

Max and Rembern run charge for the doctor, jumping over some lunging around monster jellyfish tentacles to keep going.

Underwater... The first monster jellyfish lunges its tentacles at Charim.

But, with plenty of water near, she holds on to her watery form: Much to her silent shaken relief.

With a nervous smile, Charim charges for the monster jellyfish.

She hurls it down to the bottom: With watery hands around its umbrella like bell.

The creature lies there, dazed and pulsing electric sparks around itself like mad.

Charim starts swimming up to the platform.

In gurgles... She calls down, "sorry!"

Meanwhile, back around the platform...

Max and Ben Rembern are about to get on the platform...when Max turns around.

She realizes he's crouched on the catwalk: Excruciating pain going down his legs as he violently groans there. All just from a accidental touch with his foot when he jumped over some tentacles.

Max rushes over to him.

Teary eyed, she calls out, "Ben!"

Ben Rembern insists, "violent cough! I'll live. Go!"

Max firmly nods. She gets on to the platform.

Dr. Zor Nukam hurriedly gets out a CD from his computer terminal, putting it in a plastic case.

Contacts, financial transactions with overseas companies, quantities of black market RNA mapped out by types and genetic enhancement compatibility... All the info disappears from the screen.

Ben Rembern is lying on the catwalk with his dark blue rifle out...when he sees the second monster jellyfish lunging its tentacles for Max on the platform.

Even while he's strongly tempted to keep clutching his legs... He determinedly fires.

He shoots several shots into the monster jellyfish...right in the umbrella like bell.

It goes down to the depths, dead in the water with a loud splash.

Dr. Zor Nukam is heading for a dark yellow escape pod styled submarine, carrying a bunch of DNA vials in his arms with the CD kind of sticking out of his lab coat pocket.

Max viciously figures, "I spent hours going after your dealio. You're sure as hell not bailing."

With her crossbow...she swiftly fires a hooked cable into the left on computer's computer screen.

It explodes in a fiery blaze of electric sparks and exploding off vials.

Dr. Zor Nukam is knocked off his feet by the impact alone.

He impulsively drops the DNA vials, which shatter in a bubbly brown trail of liquid.

He shakily grabs for the edge. But, his grip is slipping.

He screams as he starts to fall.

But, in seconds... Max grabs him up by the throat with one hand.

Dr. Zok Nukam just looks stunned.

With pity in her voice... She mutters, "yeah. I just kept you from winding up dead. But, it's only because you're too much of a idiot to be worth killing over."

Max hurls his body against the platform.

He's coughing violently over himself in a dizzy state when she knocks him out.

With a faint smirk, Max takes the CD from him. She pockets it.

Charim then comes back up.

She's reconstituting herself against the side of the platform as she's breathing hard.

Between breaths... She wonders kind of shakily, "so...did we...do it?"

Max mostly assures, "oh yeah. We finished the mission."

Charim faintly smiles.

She adds, "yeah. Good. Now let's get out of here."

Max figures, "sounds good. Still... Can you give me a hand with getting this mad scientist to a cell? He really smells. And, we still got a soldier down."

Charim awkwardly reasons, "yeah. I can in a minute." Max figures, "ok."

The next day...

From the gold towers of the senior run cities... From the wrecked and still standing cities across the United States... A video bulletin comes across the TV screens.

Australian people in their swimsuit styled light blue to light green clothes and casual business attire stop to look: From the nervous businessmen to the hopeful beat up looking teens in the back alleys. The American people in their Neurom-Cam17s and the nervous military stop to look too, along with the nervous and anxious looking citizens caught in the middle of the battlefields.

Eyes Only announces:

Do not attempt to turn off your set. This is a Video Streaming Video Bulletin. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. And, it is the only free voice left in the world that is about to put to a stop two cancers of crime. Yes. What you are about to see is difficult to watch. But, when you do, you will not let these cases of murder, upheaval, and cold blooded corruption go unpunished. To all the thugs in business suits pulling out cash from RNA where they shouldn't... Authorities have already been shown this evidence and are coming for you as we speak. To the Neurom-Cam 17 users who aren't cold blooded murderers... If you want to save us all a lot of trouble and help turn them in... I'll see what I can do to make your lives a little easier. So, if you want to live with yourselves, now is the time.

Twenty nine Australian businessmen from up in their gold towers are swiftly fired upon by Australian police in dark blue uniforms before they can shoot off their guns.

Their guns are shot away. And soon, they're being taken away in handcuffs.

Some Neurom-Cam17 users go out together to hunt down some killers. Some shoot down each other over bounties and heated arguing that it's not "as it is written".

But, across America and the rest of Australia...the information on Dr. Zor Nukam's CD is out there in spades. And, cheers and tears of joy are heard across every American and Australian street.

The day after, up in Logan's apartment...

Max and Logan are sitting together on the couch: Wine glasses in hand. Max is in her light blue cleavage showing sweater like shirt. Logan is in a dark brown long sleeved shirt.

Logan offers a toast, "to taking down more of the big devils on this broken world."

Max grins. They clink glasses.

They drink some before putting the glasses down on the glass table.

A little uncertain, Max figures, "yeah. That's good. Still..." Logan asks, "what is it?"

Max awkwardly recalls, "well... Remember when I first got to see your lyrical pen scratchings?"

Logan says, "and you tore a page out of it." At the same time, Max says, "I tore a page out of it so I can always look at it."

They both look at each other. They chuckle awkwardly.

Logan admits, "I know. I was kind of hoping you'd tell me someday." Max realizes, "oh."

Logan adds, "yeah. But, that's not the only reason."

With a grin, Max assumes, "I take it you have more?" Logan answers, "yeah."

He gets out from his desk a jet black book.

He hands it to Max.

She opens to the first page as Logan sits back beside her.

As she reads it over... She blushes a little.

With a faint smile, Logan reveals, "that's just the introduction. It's a book of my poems I've been working on for half a year. And, it's all yours."

Still grinning... Max asks, "really?"

Logan mostly assures her, "yeah. I still got a mostly intact one."

Max faintly chuckles. She adds, "then it's awesome."

Their hands touch.

Logan says, "you're welcome." Max says back, "thanks."

On the first page... This is what it says:

Got it coming. Wrestlers without a prayer. Not against the dark. They know the mark.

Only takes a kick from her. No one can take her.

No one's trophy. A fighter with eyes that can chill even winter's chill.

Only the good guys can pass. Only the thugs pass into cells of their own failings.

If you see her...hope that you are not looking to get a kick out of hurting her.

Only takes a kick to get it coming. You would know by the mark.

Got it coming. Wrestlers without a prayer. Not against the dark. Not against the mark.

Only takes a kick from her. Hope that you are good to pass by the dark.


	19. Episode 19: With a Little Hell

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 19:

On a dark rainy night…

Late night businessmen in dark brown trench coats are hurrying to their cars to go home. Women and other men are driving out, eager to pick up their wives and husbands before the storm gets worse.

Down a alley... There's footsteps. Loud, fast, and splashing footsteps.

A pre-teen girl with messy shoulder length black hair and a near colorless worn out ragged pink shirt and rags for pants is running, not caring for the puddles she keeps running through.

There's another set of footsteps. A puffy looking shadow of a creep runs against some metallic walls of warehouses and privately contracted delivery trucks of black and yellow.

With some heavy breathing of its own... The shadow pauses to catch its breath before a puddle.

The girl hides under some tarp over the back of one of the trucks: Like she's done this before.

A few long minutes pass.

She peeks out from under the tarp.

She breathes a faint sigh of relief as she pulls it away.

The girl gets out of the truck, tumbling to her feet.

When she gets up though...she gasps. Hints are seen of dark red gloves holding out a gray pistol.

She cries, "no. Please. Please have mercy! ! !"

A shot is heard...as the girl falls to the ground dead.

Dark red liquid begins to form around her head. And, the shadow runs off into the night.

On the following day, in the morning...

The sky is clearer. But, it is kind of cloudy out.

The body of the girl is under a black tarp. Yellow police tape is around it.

Two Sector Police cars are left and right of the alley, blocking it off.

Some Sector Police and forensics are on the scene. And amongst them is Tara Colka: In a mostly grayish black Sector Police uniform and helmet, with her hair coming down from the helmet.

Most everyone in the Sector Police ties their hair back if need be to fit under their helmets.

Most in the force give Tara a hard time for her bluntness. Some took it personally and tried to beat her up, only to get beaten up or forced to back off by the Sector Police captain. Some just glare.

Even the police captain Tara takes orders from gave her a hard time about the hair thing.

He thought it'd just get her killed if someone dragged her by her hair. But, after months of arguing, he dropped it: Because she has never let someone do it to her, and that's good enough for him.

A brown near shaven haired detective in a gray overcoat is here as well.

He's double checking the body. But, noticeable disgust is on his face as he covers it back up.

With her rifle ready to fire from her belt and a hand on it... Tara walks over to him.

She comments, "if you're not looking for hellish, you got the wrong job."

The detective admits uneasily, "I never liked seeing dead bodies: Especially of the young."

Tara faintly smiles as she takes her hand off of her gun.

She wonders more casually, "then why you a investigator? Did your mother rope you into it?"

The detective explains, "no. Just want to see the killers in jail sooner. The less dead, the better. You know?" Tara figures, "damn. That is a bit more noble than me. But, I got you."

The detective faintly chuckles, "not really from the sound of it."

He introduces himself, "Detective Steve Dobran."

Tara introduces herself, "Sector Police Lieutenant Colka." They politely shake hands.

Tara bluntly turns back to the scene, "so, what we got here?"

Detective Dobran recollects, "a brutally shot body of a young girl. No sign of bruises. But, from the rags of clothes she had...it looks like she had no home to run to."

Tara sighs heavily, "a shot homeless girl. The fourth one this month: Near gang activity, just like all the others." Detective Dobran figures, "yep."

Tara is quick to point out, "do you think that is coincidence? Cause I sure as hell don't."

Detective Dobran highlights, "coincidences are everywhere. Gang wars have spiked up again. So, who knows what crime goes where unless forensics comes back with something more concrete?"

Tara reasons firmly, "well, sure. I just hate not knowing a killer. At least I can shoot them if I know who they are." Detective Dobran adds, "you and everyone else on patrol."

Tara adds back, "not everyone else. But, I get what you're getting at."

Detective Dobran solemnly says, "sure. Let's finish up here. Then you can go back out on sector patrol." Tara firmly adds, "I'm all for that."

Detective Dobran goes to follow up with forensics. Lieutenant Colka stands guard in the alley with a few other cops. Standard sector procedure: In case a gang comes in and tries to wreck the place.

They seem lucky today though.

A hour later, up in Max's apartment...

Max and Anin are sitting at the steel legged mostly pale white table to the side by the kitchen area, playing chess with dark red and gold tinted white pieces.

Anin is in a coquelicot sweater like dress. Max is in her bright gold army jacket, over a gray semi-casual business shirt with three pale white buttons at the top.

In half Spanish and half English... Anin realizes, "you actually seem off this time."

Max faintly smirks, "really? Cause you're winning?"

After a bit though...she admits uneasily, "yeah. Maybe. It's these murder hits in town lately."

Max reluctantly moves her gold tinted queen to go after Anin's dark red knight threatening her bishop and one of her knights.

Anin says nervously, "Max...in the time I have know you, I've never seen you nervous like this."

With not much any holding back... A teary eyed Max reasons, "I know. Moderate sigh. Kicking down SOBs I got no issue with. But, there's a gang out there full of whacks killing downtrodden kids over something. The longer police take to get them, the more they're going to kill."

Anin captures the knight her knight is threatening, putting Max's king in check.

Anin concludes solemnly, "and you feel kind of helpless."

Max comments, "not the kind of word I'd go with."

Anin figures kind of awkwardly, "sorry. Would restless be a good word to you?"

Max adds with a faint smile, "sure. Sounds good enough."

She captures the knight with a pawn. Then, Anin puts her king in check again with her queen: Leaving Max forced to move the king to a corner of the board.

Anin proposes, "well...I can't give you a Eyes Only mission. But, I got something close for you."

As the teariness starts to dry itself away... Max figures, "all right. Go."

Anin moves a pawn two squares to be alongside her queen.

With some amusement, Max adds, "not exactly all I meant." Anin faintly smiles, "it doesn't mean your mother can not keep you on your feet for better from time to time."

Max faintly chuckles.

Taking her hands away from the board... Anin adds, "I will go ahead."

She explains her thoughts out loud, "you remember Angelic Hope for Traumatized Children?"

Max bittersweetly concludes, "the orphanage you've been trying to run for a month. Yeah. I know. We've talked about it. And, even with it all being a awesome try at a protection program for the downtrodden... I got to know: What does all of this got to do with those kids getting killed?"

Anin continues, "please let me finish. You will then understand why." Max says, "okay."

More self assured sounding... Anin explains, "I've been lucky to get two children to their families. But, for weeks, I haven't found homes for four children. Jenny and Robinson keep to themselves and are for the most part ok: Even with the torturous lives they had gone through. Liraki is only a little kind. But, there's hope for her yet. Samuel is not exactly understood. He wears a mask, and many of his words are like empty pages. Both are believed to be suspects in the murders by the police. But, I have hope for them both that they did not commit these crimes. A therapist was supposed to come in tomorrow on behalf of Mister Cale himself. But...I've talked it over with him. If you want to come out and try to find out on the front lines on this, I am sure he would be ok with it."

Max grins, already knowing her answer. She concludes, "and on top of it all, the orphanage happens to be close to two sectors where gangs have been seen shortly after two of the murders. Well, if it wouldn't be a even bigger dealio for the kids in the orphanage... I'm sure as hell game."

Anin faintly smiles back, "you're welcome."

Max concludes, "thanks. I hope they're not the killers either."

Blushing a little... Anin solemnly says, "thank you." Max adds, "you're welcome."

Not very long after...

Max is speeding down some streets on her motorcycle. She hard turns the corner, avoiding several mostly silvery cars and trucks coming her way.

She's talking with someone very familiar over her cellular phone with her free hand.

From the other end, in his jet black jacket over gray... Logan reminds her, "you know it's not going to get any easier. Convincing your mother to do the right thing and let us find homes for them."

Max adds kind of uneasily, "maybe. Either way, these two kids have got to get a shot at getting off their asses to speak for themselves."

All the while, she is thinking to herself:

And my mother is a more old fashioned lady.

Before we started to hang, I thought no guy or lady could be more old fashioned than Logan.

For better and for worse, it turns out I was mistaken. She thinks the kids in orphanages ought to just go and find their "real" parents so they can all chill and crap.

If Eyes Only couldn't find my mother, I would think it's time to stop looking. Hell, I even stopped looking before she found us on her own.

I know Anin means well. But... Moderate sigh.

It's time she get clued into the real and let us help: Even if the parents aren't genetically related.

A little sarcastic, Logan comments, "and here I thought you were going to find a easy way through this."

Max points out, "Logan...I know what it's like. Besides, not every runaway wants a mother or a dad. Sometimes, all they want is each other."

Logan faintly smiles in reflection, "like your brothers and sisters." Max adds, "exactly."

Logan figures reluctantly, "I get it. I just..." Max uneasily inquires, "just what?"

Logan apologizes, "sorry. I...just can't imagine."

Max mostly assures, "it's okay. It could trip up anyone who hasn't been there."

Logan adds, "thanks."

Max voices with a faint smile, "not a problem. Just looking out for my messiah."

Logan faintly chuckles, "sure." He adds in, "I'm also looking out for my revved up girl."

Max grins in acknowledgment, "I know. Thanks, Logan."

Logan concludes lightly, "sure. See you tonight?"

A little snarkily, Max figures, "unless it's a army of walker things straight up from Star Wars coming to kick us on our asses? Wouldn't miss it for a thing."

Looking a little amused, Logan figures, "all right. Well...see you later." Max goes, "later."

She hangs up.

She comes to a stop before a street corner. Up ahead, with her cat like vision... She sees the dark blue mansion styled orphanage...and some Sector Police cars not far off in front.

Several Sector Police officers are in them, black rifles out and ready.

They got lights flashing. But, there's no sirens and no storming in. The lieutenant is sweating nervously in his seat: Hand clutching a rifle and all too ready to fire at anyone suspected to be in a gang.

Pityingly, Max just sighs heavily to herself, "guys."

She speeds right for them on her motorcycle as high speed as it goes.

One of the officers calls out, "what the...?!"

A second Sector Police officer at the driver's seat drives back his car, fearing a collision.

Though, just as they see the blur... She angles her wheel up, launching her motorcycle over the Sector Police cars and grinding to a halt a few miles away.

The first officer shakes his head. He mutters, "damn motorcycle punks."

Fifteen minutes later...

Thanks to a call from Max and Logan's connections, the patrol has been ordered to drive around further out with their lights off "without making it any more embarrassing for them than it already is for causing several public disturbance calls on account of near blindness from their lights".

With some mixed relief, Max props her motorcycle near the yellow rimmed front door of the Angelic Hope for Traumatized Children orphanage.

A sign over the door says Angelic Hope for Traumatized Children in blocky engraved letters, with a marker like yellow halo around the hope part.

It all used to be a small warehouse styled office complex with tight quarters, before the owners were offered a better building in another sector as part of a business merger and they didn't care for the original building anymore. It was remodeled and made bigger from the ground up, with help from some of Logan's own accumulated share of millions from the computer boxes over the past several months.

Max heads in through the kind of creaky metal doors.

The two halls of the wings are done up in light blue and dark blue checkered tiled walls. They're plastered in left barely visible dark red to orange graffiti with words from "authority is bullshit lies to burn" to "burn all politics, burn all assaulters!" Scrub marks from trying to scrub it all off are plenty.

There's a yellow tiled kitchen with a stove and a wooden table, a shower room, a kind of small yellow tiled bathroom next to it, and a public computer box in the dark blue titled living area for internet and DVDs with limited apps. There's white silverware, and a mix of health food snack bars and microwaveables: Because even with the computer boxes helping Post-Pulse America's economy, just about everyone's hard pressed for cash unless there's stealing to go around or something.

Some kids are finishing some snack bars at the kitchen table. Their names are Jenny and Robinson. Jenny has fairly long gray hair. She has on a pink sweater with ambulance lights icons on it. Robinson has fairly long messy light brown hair. He has on a red sweater with police siren icons over it.

They look nervous. But, they're mostly just keeping to themselves: Even though they're awkwardly facing each other.

Max faintly smiles to herself as she passes the kitchen.

Up the winding solid white stairs are a few bodyguards in jet black jackets and grey jeans on guard: Courtesy of Eyes Only. They were originally just brought there in case a enemy of Eyes Only tries to kidnap the orphans as leverage against them. But, there's great unease in their eyes.

One of them comes downstairs. He has medium dark blond hair.

He says, "ah. Max. Good thing you're here."

With a smirk, Max remarks, "and I figure you and Tiger Jack there got your own Eyes Only decoder rings. What's up? Cause I don't see any problem now coming in."

The bodyguard faintly uneasily chuckles. He adds, "well, not right now. But, around Liraki...we can use as many bodyguards as we can get."

Max catches sight of a burn mark on his hand.

Max faintly uneasily laughs. She thinks out loud, "thanks for the advice. I'm not here to be on watch. But, I'm sure as hell there won't be trouble. Not with me."

Max starts making her way down the right wing's hall.

The bodyguard comments, "ok. But, don't say I didn't warn you."

Max just ignores him with a wave of her hand as she continues down the hall.

Not long after, in one of the bedrooms...

Mostly dark red graffiti is everywhere: Much like in the halls, except a lot more easy to see.

There's very dark gray walls, with fire pits painted on the walls, scorch marks plenty, and some kind of ripped up looking posters of the Black Eyed Peas. One is of the E.N.D. World Tour with a green computer generated robot like face. The second is of The Black Eyed Peas's The BEGINNING of the E.N.D. documentary promotional picture in a flame like backdrop, with the Canadian flag in the corner.

A deaf teenage girl is lying on her bed: With a cold look in her eyes, long dark purple dyed hair, dark grey ripped jeans, and a dirt brown T-shirt with a silvery tan blue skull. She's holding a clipboard with plenty of aluminum foil strip made paper on it to write on with a dark purple colored pencil.

Dark purple sheets are on the bed. A lighter is next to her reddish orange pillow.

With a annoyed roll of her eyes, Max stands there with a hand on her hip: Waiting for Liraki.

Soon though, Max takes the message she's written out for her. It says:

You saw my words as soon as you walked in.

Anin saw them before authority stepped in and tried to wash away the TRUTH.

I'm gonna cut the bullshit: I REALLY don't know who you work for.

Anin didn't try to wash it away. Even let me keep my room full of TRUTH.

Are you here to get it over with for the big c***sucker himself on the air and all the other police and BEAT on me? Or, are you with Anin?

Max glares, tempted to crumple it up and throw it at her.

But, as Liraki nervously goes for her lighter, Max backs off a little.

She turns the paper over and sits on the floor: Taking out a pencil she came with to write with.

Liraki holds the lighter. But, she's breathing heavily as she lies there.

After a bit... Max crumples up the paper anyway and tosses it to her.

Liraki puts down the lighter to open it up.

She faintly laughs with a smirk as she reads it. It says:

I'm not the enemy. But, I can be a real bitch.

Anin said you're a little kind. She also told me there's hope for you.

She's my mother, and I want to believe her on this. So, it's not a big dealio you're this close to pissing me off this time. But, piss me off again...and I'll kick your ass so hard you're going to wish you lit yourself on fire. Eyes Only or no Eyes Only.

Now, I'm gonna only ask once. Do you know anything about the downtrodden kids being murdered lately? Or, do you just get kicks out of lighting police's asses on fire?

Liraki writes back on another piece of paper. She crumples it up and tosses it over to Max.

She faintly laughs as she reads it. It says:

You have TRUTH. I THINK I like you.

I've been assaulted many times. But, I always burned them.

They can't fire for shit when they're on painkillers forever or dead and shit.

All of them except for higher grade police. They get a little burned.

I've heard of you on the streets. But, I thought it just a MYTH. I REALLY don't want to be on painkillers forever. But, I will fend for myself and TRUTH. And, I REALLY hate LIES.

I don't know shit about these homeless kids. Only word going around.

You REALLY think I would kill them in a great big self LIE?

Assaulting defenseless kids is bullshit. But, I take it you too THINK so.

Max writes something on a piece of paper Liraki freely hands her.

Max leaves it on the floor and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

Liraki kind of nervously bends down to pick up the paper.

She then faintly sighs annoyedly to herself. It says:

So noted. I feel you. But, don't expect us to hang. Enjoy your little propaganda art projects.

Not long after, in another bedroom...

There's sharply bright red walls with some personally crafted light blue face masks hanging from them on nails. Red to blue shoulder pads, mouth guards, knee pads, and masks are everywhere.

No one can really see the floor under it all. But, the bed is visible.

A teenage guy is sitting there: With a distant stance to him, messy medium black hair, a kind of smelly dark blue face mask, a sleek gray biker jacket, reddish black ripped jeans, and a T-shirt of a movie poster of Maximum Risk from 1996 on it. Masks and pads look to be his specialty.

Max kind of cautiously says, "hey." Samuel just says, "toolbox."

Max wonders, "do you know who I am?"

Uncertain sounding, Samuel answers, "retinal scanner."

Max figures, "okay. I'll take that as a no. I came cause Anin is my mother, and she believes you're innocent. I want to believe her on this. Still... I got to ask: Do you know anything about these murders of downtrodden kids going down lately?"

Still uncertain sounding, Samuel voices, "retinal scanner. Soldiering gun."

A little annoyed sounding, Max concludes, "fine. I have no idea what all of what you mean is. It sounds like you don't know. But, thanks for your time."

She starts to head out the door...when Samuel adds something.

Kind of nervous and kind of uncertain sounding, he says, "soldering gun. Retinal scanner, punchdown tool, workbench."

Max lightly comments, "faint chuckle. Now that I understand. That's something anyway."

She then leaves Samuel be, who's faintly chuckling to himself over the whole thing.

That night...

Max is in her black catsuit, stealthily walking down the halls in the dark. Logan is in his jet black jacket, walking beside her with a flashlight to help light the way for his sake.

At a near whisper, Logan can't help but wonders, "why couldn't we just go through the front? We already have our share of agents. This is all kind of insane."

Max pauses a little. She pinpoints, "cause most all the other agents are either sleeping or on a mission. And, all the kids are supposedly sleeping...except I expect not all of them to be."

She picks the lock on a door: With her knife and her cat like eyes telling her what grooves to hit.

Max then opens the door and walks in, much to Logan's silent unease.

She notices the window almost all the way closed. The breeze slightly rattles the frame.

Even with her acute hearing...she doesn't hear breathing from the bed.

She quickly throws off the covers, expecting the worst.

But, in seconds...she sees in mixed relief what is really there.

Not taking it anymore... Logan whispers lowly, "Max!"

Max sighs kind of annoyedly as she flicks on a light switch.

She goes, "what?! I thought we were gonna have to get him to a hospital. But, it's not even that. We walked in on a mannequin. Probably made by himself to substitute."

In the bed is a dummy: Painted to look exactly like Samuel in his brown colored underwear.

Logan faintly smiles with a sigh of relief. He says admittedly, "you were right."

Max figures, "thanks. I'll let you know when I know what for."

Logan uneasily asks, "what?"

Max admits just as uneasily, "hey. All I know is Liraki looked like she was hiding some big dealio, and that Samuel sounded like he was hiding some big dealio of his own. Considering she writes all her words down and he wears a mask 24/7, that's real big of me to figure out."

A little relieved sounding, Logan figures, "fair enough." Max adds, "thanks."

Logan figures, "we'll check Liraki's room. She could be gone too."

Max adds, "I sure as hell hope not. But, that's what I'm thinking."

She turns off the light on her way out of the empty room, with Logan right behind her.

A half hour later, in another sector of Seattle...

Past a blocky bright green lit space marines themed midway park called Treelander Invasion, past a anime styled dark and grim poster for a Deus Ex: Mankind Divided anime series under Square Enix... There's half of a grimy looking yellow bus speeding off the highway: With a nailed in tarp on the back, some stolen car wheels in back, and a Pulse hit engine replaced with a working car engine.

The grimy bus sharply turns down a winding ramp, past some honking cars.

It speeds on past a red light, knocking a car high on its side.

The driver tumbles out in time, breathing heavily on his side.

Two Sector Police cars are soon coming after the bus, sirens blaring.

Cars crash into each other as they try to avoid them. Rearview mirrors shatter and break off.

On the side of the bus in big recently painted dark red graffiti in a arrow shape are the words "Assaulters Here". And, at the wheel of the bus is Liraki: Looking coldly determined and yet uneasy.

As soon as a mostly dark gray ribbed wall flat roofed house is faintly seen from the bus's front window, she faintly smirks. With her lighter in hand, she opens it up.

She takes her hands off the wheel and runs for the tarp. But, not before lighting the dash on fire.

Liraki tumbles out from the tarp...as the bus crashes through the metal fence. Its front part explodes seconds after in a burst of flames, while the back is splintered apart in flaming pieces.

She soon gets to her feet, running for the big flaming hole now in the back side of the house.

Inside... There's light blue walls and white rimmed doorways.

A picture of Muslims in black and white hijabs and black and white thobes casually sitting and gathered around a senator with medium dark brown haired man in a white business suit hangs in the main hall of the second floor. His name is Aramis Gernback.

Fire alarms are going off. The sound of smashed glass is coming from the other side of the hall.

Two bodyguards in black are guarding the bedroom. They're armed with black rifles.

In some yellow rimmed white shower robes, a kind of sleepy Senator Gernback stirs from his room. He checks uneasily, "what the hell is going on?"

A bodyguard in black figures, "I'll call the firemen and check the safe. Go!"

The second bodyguard just faintly nods as he helps Senator Gernback down the gray steps.

In the wake of the Pulse, everything of due process in America except for mayors, state judges, and senators was dissolved. The rest was mostly given over to military power and Sector Police.

That was before Eyes Only challenged all of that.

But, what hasn't changed in Post-Pulse America is that select senators in the west and east coasts each hold a share of the Post-Pulse American Treasury. Fifty hundred thousand dollars, plus their modest salaries.

With that much alone, any gang can afford very comfortable lives.

Meanwhile... The Sector police cars pull over.

In uniform, Lieutenant Colka and another Sector police officer come out of a car. Three more officers come out of the second car. And, they're all armed with rifles.

Lieutenant Colka orders, "spread out! Report anything you find. I don't want another dead girl on our watch." The other officers solemnly acknowledge, "yes sir."

They make their way for the house in a hurry.

A few minutes later...

A light red fire truck is coming at the scene, sirens blaring.

Max is coming in through the smashed in metal fence on her motorcycle.

She pauses.

With her cat like eyes, she spots the mostly intact side of bus with the arrow shaped graffiti.

With faint teary eyes, she realizes it was meant for her.

Max speeds around the flames for the flaming hole in the house.

And, she's thinking to herself, "I just hope I'm not too late to save you from falling on your ass."

Meanwhile, still on ground level...

There's a dimly lit ribbed gray hall.

The sprinklers are kicking in. But, shots from a pistol from a figure in a gray overcoat and hat in the shadow of a open door make them die out quick.

The fire has been slowly spreading down the hall. But, the flames are getting higher quick.

Glaring right at the figure, Liraki charges for it.

But...the figure slams the door into her: Dazing her. She violently coughs some on the floor.

Suddenly, the bodyguard insistently calls out, "not this way!"

He heads back up the steps, rushing Senator Gernback up.

They're nearly scorched by a trail of fire. But, some sprinklers over the steps and the second floor are helping ward off a lot of it so they can get up there.

Heavy mist is coming from firemen putting out the fire outside.

Lieutenant Colka quickly finds a banged up fire extinguisher. With some pressure over the nozzle with her Sector Police issue black gloves, she puts out the flames in the hall with it.

She tries to help Liraki to her feet.

Her head is slightly bruised. But, she reactively helps herself up: Clenching a fist and warningly pulling out her lighter as she gets up. Tara is nervously pulling out her rifle, ready to fire.

With some shakiness in her voice... She says, "it doesn't have to go down like this. Just please...put down the lighter and go back to wherever you call home."

In black and white... Tara is thinking back to her life in Washington.

As a kid, she had a fascination with fire: Until she accidentally burned her friend and he ended up in a hospital, who also had a fascination with fire.

She tearily muttered to herself over and over, "please don't go to hell cause of me."

He made it. But, that wasn't her worst memory growing up.

Her small crime ridden town got a lot worse, when enough young criminals got together and overthrew it by killing most of the parents with guns. They were lead by a gang called the Sinfires.

Soon, fascination with fire and all other crimes were encouraged: Even welcomed. And, a growing number of cops in nearby towns were realizing this with growing alarm.

A teenage Tara actually went as far as applying for a strip club, then turning the location over to some of the cops to help them sneak into the town and liberate it.

Fortunately, the gang was trying to branch out and attack neighboring towns that same week to take them over too. So, it wasn't long before the cops pulled the plug on all of it.

In light of her heroism, Tara was offered a scholarship for a police academy.

Because of her maturity, they would make a exception for her age. But, she didn't accept at first.

Teary eyed and fairly shaken from everything... Tara said, "thank you. I could. But...I figure that isn't possible with what's gone down. My mother and father need as much medical attention as they can get. No one else in our family can get here in time. And, it's going to cost a hell of a lot."

When a police chief though gladly offered to take care of all costs, Tara gladly accepted.

She became one of the youngest cops in Washington, who took down several gangs in one year alone when she was 18. Then the Pulse came...and Washington went to hell with the rest of the country.

She felt burned by the chaos that followed, and she had very few friends left.

The police chief that had been her friend for three years had died in the line of duty protecting her in the wake of the Pulse. And, that's just a prime example.

After things kind of calmed down, she moved down to Seattle to join the Sector Police there.

It was partly to try to start over. But, it was mostly to help fight corruption...which has led to her bluntness being met with a kind of "infamous" reputation among most of the Sector Police.

Presently...

Now off her Ninja... Max swiftly appears between Lieutenant Colka and Liraki.

Lieutenant Colka warns, "Max... Please back off. I got this."

Max points out, "she's deaf, Tara! So, if you don't want this to go down hard for both of you...back off and let me handle this. Please."

Muffled shots and smashed silverware are heard from behind the door.

Max uneasily adds, "how about checking that out?"

Lieutenant Colka nervously sighs. She adds back, "okay. But, don't get me regretting it."

She slam shuts the door behind her.

Liraki faintly smirks uneasily as she uncrumples a piece of paper in her other hand.

Max takes it. It says:

I'm not here to burn police. I'm here to burn the real assaulters who killed those children.

With a faint smile, Max quickly writes back on it on the other side with her pencil:

Okay. Long as you come with me.

Liraki faintly nods.

Since she figures Sector Police got the ground floor covered, Max starts making her way up the steps with Liraki. For, she hears fast running on the second floor.

Around this time, on the other side of the door...

Lieutenant Colka looks wide eyed in shock. But, wide eyed quickly changes to a heated glare.

In the dining room, the other three Sector Police officers are lying on the floor dead.

One has white bowl pieces around his dark red liquid dripping head. The other two are shot in the chest. And, standing over them is the figure: Gray pistol out and ready in his red gloved hand.

In a rough voice...the figure coldly mutters, "the Red Salvation Gunners don't take kindly to interference: Kid or no kid. There is only one answer to wrongful defiance: Death."

Lieutenant Colka harshly figures, "then we got nothing to talk about."

They both shoot.

While shooting, Lieutenant Colka tumbles to the side to avoid most of the incoming fire.

But, she's soon groaning violently. Her shoulder is dripping dark red liquid.

The figure stumbles back. But, the bullets didn't even hurt him.

With some frustration, he tears away the bullet ridden overcoat.

Under it is very dark red padded armor with some punctured pads and a lot of muscle. He has medium black hair under his hat and a matching unibrow.

He pauses to load more bullets in his pistol.

From the ground, a faintly smiling Lieutenant Colka shoots off his pistol before he can fire.

The guy angrily grabs the dining room table and flips it at her. Silverware shatters everywhere.

Lieutenant Colka's smile turns back to a heated glare as she tumbles away from it all.

The guy then grabs her, knocking her against the propped up splintered table. It splinters apart.

In her dazed state, the guy punches her down: Making her cough up dark red liquid on the floor.

Lieutenant Colka falls unconscious, with one arm behind her back.

He picks up her gun and backs off a little to go to shoot her.

But, as he's about to shoot... Lieutenant Colka opens her eyes and throws.

She throws a piece of splintered table into the guy.

A trail of dark red liquid flies from his chest as he falls over dead.

Lieutenant Colka faintly sighs in relief as she slowly props herself up against the wall.

After catching her breath... She starts walking around to double check for any more guys: Even with her injuries.

Around this time, on the second floor...

A silvery lined metal vault is in a small storage room. A bigger office space is across from it.

Some boxes have been tossed aside. A broken window is seen across from the open doorway.

Two homeless kids in rags are setting up plastique on the vault door's hinges, while Samuel and a medium brown haired guy with glasses in a matching biker jacket named Rick are standing guard around the doorway. They're with a Red Salvation Gunner gang leader and his second in command, with gray overcoats and red gloves. Both have frontless medium black hair under their hats.

They jumped from roof to roof until they got to this house and swung in through that window.

Samuel and Rick got knives, and the two gang leaders got hands on gray pistols on their belts.

There's footsteps.

The first bodyguard rushes in. But, he stands there a little hesitant.

Nervously, he starts to call out, "drop your...!"

The gang leader though is a quick shot. He shoots him in the head, killing him instantly.

Samuel and Rick look shocked: Very much like this wasn't the plan at all.

A faintly teary eyed Samuel murmurs nervously, "jack, plumber's snake, brace and bit."

Rick murmurs his exact words.

All the while... The senator and the other bodyguard break into a run, heading out the front door.

The second in command guy sighs annoyedly. He challenges, "what the hell is he saying now?"

Rick remarks, "how's this for a answer?"

He decks the guy down with the blunt side of his knife, stunning him against the wall.

Rick soon gasps. He's punched out from behind by one of the pre-teen kids.

He falls unconscious against the doorway.

Samuel swings his knife at the leader. But, he pulls the knife away while holding his arm out.

He stabs him with his knife, making him cough violently. Dark red liquid drips from his jacket.

But soon, Samuel sees a opening. He slams his own mask into the leader to make him let go.

They both stumble back to recuperate against opposite sides of the desk.

Then, Max and Liraki come charging in.

Liraki goes right for the two pre-teens, knocking out one of them to the floor with her fist.

But, the conscious pre-teen boy kicks her violently back at the window frame.

She clutches her side as she's coughing violently. But, she's still holding the lighter.

Max instinctively goes right for the gang leader. But, the second in command gets up.

He jump tackles her to the floor.

With a heated glare, she high kicks him up through the ceiling.

He flies through a hole into the night...before seconds later coming violently crashing back down to the then dented floor. His neck snaps as dark red liquid forms around his cold dead head.

With a hand on the window frame, Liraki opens her lighter.

The pre-teen boy is about to shoot with a pistol...when she lights the lighter in front of his face.

He screams as he clutches his burning face.

But, just as quickly, the sprinklers come on. And, he's soon gasping for air on the floor.

Max glares at Liraki.

In a naturally tense voice, Liraki goes, "oh, cut the bullshit. He wasn't defenseless for shit!"

With some mixed feelings, Max deeply sighs over it.

Liraki couldn't hear her. But, she stands there nervously: Knowing what she was thinking.

The gang leader though interrupts what she's thinking, "don't come any closer, or I kill him!"

He's holding a pistol to Samuel's head while holding him with his other arm.

Max sighs nervously. On the way up, she overheard what the guy downstairs said.

Trying to buy time... She points out, "you really thought you and your guys on this pathetic "Salvation Gunners" kick would go and pin hate on Samuel to feed into a whole anti-Muslim crappy shot dealio, and now you're threatening him? Are you just trying to get killed, or are you one big idiot?"

The gang leader mutters under his breath, "Eyes Only and their clever agents. I don't care what cyborg disguise they got: They're the ones who've been killing us!"

From the other doorway... Lieutenant Colka comments, "you sure as hell got no room to talk."

With her picked back up rifle, she shoots the gang leader in the leg.

He cries out in excruciating pain, letting his grip go a little.

Samuel then punches him out before he can fire and breaks free. He falls unconscious.

Max faintly smiles with relief. Lieutenant Colka wastes no time handcuffing him.

Max says, "thanks." With a faint smile, Lieutenant Colka adds, "you are welcome."

Max checks, "soldiering gun?"

Samuel faintly nods. Relieved sounding, he says, "soldiering gun."

The next day, in front of the Angelic Hope for Traumatized Children orphanage...

Max is standing uneasily there in her silvery blue top. Anin is in a light yellow dress.

Anin starts to say, "Max. I don't think you..."

Max considers uneasily, "mother... I know it's not what you want to hear. But, what happened last night could have been a hell of a lot worse without me and Tara there. You can't coop them up all year. Sometimes, there are people you just can't get back. But sometimes, going through a little hell can be good to have life be a little less broken. You've gone through a little hell with finding out the dealio on your parents. So, for the kids... How about giving a little hell a chance?"

Anin confesses, "heavy sigh. It's not easy for me to say. But...I see now you are right."

Max adds, "thank you."

Anin suggests, "just promise me one thing." Max is quick to ask, "what?"

Anin inquires, "promise you and Logan will keep a eye on them for me from time to time?"

Max figures, "sure."

They hug each other tight.

They soon pull away. But, they both faintly smile.

Not long after...

Max is on her cellular phone, walking down the streets for a certain park.

On the other end, in a long sleeved light blue shirt... Logan checks, "so how did it go?"

Max concludes lightly, "I think it's going to be ok. But, thanks."

With some mixed relief, Logan voices, "no. Thank you. Those kids need families, and they're finally going to get to find them."

Max blushes a little. She goes, "thanks. Although..."

Logan is quick to question, "yeah?"

Max admits kind of uneasily, "much as Liraki pissed me off...it looks as though she's finally coming around to not seeing Eyes Only as Neo-Nazis. You think she might ever join up?"

Logan faintly chuckles. He remarks, "well...why don't you ask yourself that question?"

Max gets a hard chuckle out of that one.

People are staring. But, she doesn't care.

Max sees a certain park bench up ahead amongst some green leaved trees.

With some amusement, she figures, "no. Don't think I'd really want to meet a younger me. But, I feel you." Logan adds, "you're welcome."

Max is now lying on the bench: With her feet up, and only Logan on cell to keep her company.

But, far as she's concerned, it's as good a time as any to chill before a mission hits or something.


	20. Episode 20: Black Catz and Water Ripples

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 20:

Up in Sketchy's apartment...

Syl and Sketchy are up here: Making out "very closely" over the bed in the dim light of the rising dawn. Most of their clothes are off on the floor.

Soon though, they hear her stopwatch beeping on the dark gray kitchen counter.

Realizing what that means... They reluctantly pull away.

Sketchy slightly groans in annoyance as Syl walks over to stop the stopwatch.

Sketchy mumbles uneasily, "is it morning already?"

As she stands by the kitchen counter... Syl assures lightly, "it's Sunday, Sketchy. We're good."

Sketchy faintly nods, "oh. Sounds great."

With a faint smile, Syl lightly reasons, "thanks. You want breakfast first? I got some muffins from a bakery if you..."

She then hears a small thud.

Sounding kind of worried, Syl checks, "Sketch?"

She takes some deep breaths.

She mutters to herself, "not real. Not real."

She walks over.

She then just awkwardly chuckles to herself with a faint grin.

Sketchy has just fallen back asleep, and bumped his shoulder on the wall like he often does.

Syl sets the stopwatch for three hours. Then, she goes to the table to grab a muffin and start eating for herself not wearing much.

Several hours later...

The sky is cloudy. But, rain isn't expected today.

In Sector 4 of Seattle... There's scatterings of warehouses, and back roads and hard turning highways end to end. Three mostly dark blue lit hydroelectric dams are along the shoreline, with cobblestone paths the size of highways with metal fence between them and the waters.

Plenty of security guards with black uniforms are around the dams. After the Pulse, no power plant has been left without guard patrols.

Well, except on lunch break. But, they're far out from home. And, with not much Sector Police captains or military around, no one really objects.

For that matter, not much people come out here.

It's colder and windier than most of the other Sectors. And for years, metal scrap houses have crumpled all too easily against the storms.

Even gangs thought it would be too much trouble to hide out here. Because of this, crime activity has been astoundingly low in the past five years.

A wave of calmer weather might have come with the new wave of technology. But, even now, most people are just coming out for business or for uneasily starting to consider building more offices.

Up against the back of a warehouse are two familiar looking bikes.

And, around the corner... There's Syl and Sketchy: Standing against the wall.

Syl looks a little chilly. But, she doesn't really seem to mind.

She is in a very light red sleeveless dress with a dark yellow undershirt under it. Sketchy is in his mostly light yellow and dark green lined sweatshirt.

Sketchy starts to say, "you know, while I have a good head for the bedroom..."

Syl slightly rolls her eyes. She assumes with a faint smile, "so you don't always get things right. But, don't worry: You try to be. And, you're good when you do."

Sketchy faintly smiles, "thanks. But...that wasn't what I was about to say."

Syl sighs annoyedly.

She comments, "Sketchy... Is this another horror story from a guy you know?"

Sketchy awkwardly admits, "well...I don't exactly see them as horror stories. But, I'm starting to get how you would think so."

Syl goes, "well..." Sketchy uneasily wonders, "yeah?"

With a bit of mixed feelings... Syl figures, "faint sigh. At least you're trying to not straight up gross me out. I love you, Sketchy. But, how about finding more guys into more normal things? Then you'd have more stories to say that don't have breathing straw stunts and torn out appendixes in them."

Sketchy reasons, "yeah. Sounds good. The only problem with it is I don't know where to find more normal guys. Most everyone I personally know either was at Jam Pony, or were arrested for protesting something."

Looking a little red in the face... Syl solemnly mumbles, "I'm sorry. I didn't know our histories were that alike."

She hugs him close, looking teary eyed.

With a faint smile, Sketchy insists, "no, Syl. It's ok: Because, now we both know."

Syl looks up at him. They awkwardly chuckle over that.

Sketchy hugs her back.

After a bit...they pull away. But, Syl gives him a quick kiss on the lips before they do.

Sketchy wonders, "so...you think you can help me find "more normal" guys?"

A little amused sounding, Syl figures, "not right now. Max and Original Cindy should be coming any minute. But, I'm sure we can go scout the sectors and find some."

Sketchy adds, "thanks."

With some cheekiness...Syl wonders, "sure. Would it also help to be in the bedroom sooner?"

Sketchy slyly smiles, "straight to a good time. Outstanding."

Syl's stopwatch is beeping. But, she quickly stops it so as not to interrupt him.

Syl adds, "you're welcome."

Max and Original Cindy are speeding over on their bikes. They're recently finished a early lunch, while Syl and Sketchy finished a big breakfast with some time to spare.

They both grind to a halt.

Max is in her thin dark gray jacket, over a black T-shirt with the raised darkish red fist from the 1995 movie Panther at center. Original Cindy is in her open dark tan sweatshirt over very dark orange, and with her hair all up in a bun.

Max wonders snarkily, "so...you guys gonna get all playful? Or, are all of us going to race?"

With slight amusement, Original Cindy just rolls her eyes.

Syl and Sketchy faintly awkwardly chuckle. They get back on their bikes.

With her lighter bones and more compact muscles though, Syl can kind of easily bunch up the underside of a fancy dress under her legs without it looking all bunched up.

Syl figures, "more like playing to win."

Sketchy kind of nervously wonders, "wait a minute. Are we doing this two to two?"

Syl remarks, "I love you, Sketchy. But, you got to really go at it to try to pass me."

She and Max are already starting to take off on their bikes down along a few warehouses. But, Max and Original Cindy can't help but chuckle to themselves over the whole thing.

Half sarcastic, Sketchy mutters lowly, "damn! I was hoping for something easier."

Original Cindy and Sketchy are speeding behind them: Hard turning past a few honking heavy duty looking garbage trucks.

Original Cindy comments back to him, "it's called having a girlfriend, Sketch. You walk or run to keep up: Long as you ain't tripping over your own male ego."

Sketchy adds, "thank you for the advice. But, I think I'm good."

He suddenly hard turns around for one of the backroads, speeding off of it with his wheel up.

He speeds down off of a garbage truck's garbage down below some stories.

He stumbles over his feet.

But, with some fallen garbage bags kind of cushioning his fall, he gets back up again with a slight groan. He's speeding down for one of the cobblestone paths going by the dams.

Max and Syl are just coming down some backroads for the cobblestone path he's going down.

Sounding impressed, Original Cindy thinks to herself, "damn."

She speeds for the backroads to try to catch up to Max and Syl: Even though she already knows she's not winning this one.

Twelve or so minutes later...

Max comes around the power plant, angling her wheel up and launching herself over the fence.

She makes it first. But, only by a minute.

A awkwardly grinning Syl and a out of breath Sketchy come cycling in second. And, Original Cindy, taking it slower now to breathe easier, makes it third.

Sketchy goes to catch his breath, sitting against the metal fence and clutching his aching butt.

Max and Syl get off their bikes, going over to Sketchy. Original Cindy is just getting off hers.

Max is quick to ask, "you ok?"

Sketchy insists assuringly, "yeah. I'm okay. Just my ass that's a little not."

Syl moves closer to him, sitting next to him with a comforting hand over his. Sketchy faintly smiles as his heart begins to beat more steadily between hard breaths.

Kind of sarcastically, Max remarks, "isn't it always something?"

Syl gives Max a slight glare. Max asks kind of uneasily, "what?"

Original Cindy faintly reflects, "slight chuckle. True that. But, he aiight for real."

Syl's glare fades. And, her face is looking a little red.

She says awkwardly, "thanks." Original Cindy figures assuringly, "no problem."

They bump fists together.

Max faintly chuckles to herself.

Syl figures, "and, it sure sounds like you're all right. Besides...you were straight up clocking it."

Sketchy concludes, "really?"

Sounding impressed, Syl faintly nods, "yeah. You were great." Sketchy adds, "thanks."

Turning back up to Max... Syl brings up, "sure. Oh. And you never fell on yours, sis?"

Max comments snarkily, "yeah. I don't think so."

With a faint roll of her eyes, Syl gets up to face her straight on.

She goes, "sure. And, you never wanting to admit you're wrong got nothing to do with that?"

Sketchy looks amused.

Original Cindy interjects, "Original Cindy thinks you don't got to answer to that."

Max comments, "no. I think I should. She's gonna kick my ass later if I don't."

With a faint grin, Syl just says, "maybe."

Kind of sarcastic, Original Cindy figures, "aiight. I'm just standing all back here just to be sure I don't go through a world of hurt between you two."

She steps back on the other side of the vacant lot of cars behind them.

Max faintly chuckles. Syl awkwardly faintly chuckles.

Syl concludes, "I don't want to go that far." Max adds, "same."

After a awkward pause... She goes on to reason, "I kick ass. Falling really isn't my stilo."

Slightly amused looking, Syl concludes, "ok, Max. If that's how you want to play. But, if you fall in enemy territory, I'm going to call you out later."

Max slightly scoffs, "whatever, Syl."

Original Cindy just stands in the middle of the lot: Faintly smirking over it all. So is Sketchy.

Not long after...

Having left Original Cindy and Sketchy for the day... Max is by herself in a alley between brick walls. Her cellular phone is in hand.

On the other end, in a black vest over a gray long sleeved shirt... Logan answers, "hey."

Max adds brightly, "hey yourself. So what's the mission?"

Logan figures solemnly, "faint uneasy chuckle. Well... Sorry to take you away from your good mood. But, it's important. It's a red alert: For more than one kind of reason."

Kind of nervously, Max is quick to inquire, "it's okay. ZFA?"

Logan kind of cryptically explains, "that...and a tip from somebody close to you. This is too important to tell you over phone. I'm not sure if the ZFA has a tap on us again, and we can't risk it: Especially not now."

Max thinks back to a line from one of Logan's poems from the book of poems he gave her:

A watchtower of justice with no searchlight, still bright and just as Heaven's tower.

It kind of comforts her.

Max solemnly nods, "I understand. So, bottom line: How do I get to go on this mission?"

Logan instructs simply, "get to the Eyes Only private plane. Sydney will fill you in on the way."

With a faint smile, Max figures, "okay. I'll call you: After I save the world and kick some ZFA cybernetic asses."

Logan faintly smiles.

Max hangs up.

She's already walking to her Ninja: At a bike rack across the street with her bike chain over it.

Ninety minutes or so later...

The Eyes Only plane is beginning to fly over South America.

It's already passed the rocky beaches of the Caribbean Islands. Now, it's passing over the edge of the smoking charcoal like wasteland that has become Central America.

Between gang wars, a flood of immigrants after the Pulse hit the United States and Mexico in 2009, very low tourism, earthquakes and volcanic eruptions, drug lords from Mexico and the Caribbean, and extremist militia along the Darien Gap...all that's left is a super thick cloud cover of lingering smog and ash, volcanoes, lava flows, and jagged rock faces.

On another note... Thanks to advanced warning from Mexican immigrants to the United Kingdom and South American immigrants...the Caribbean was temporarily evacuated post haste along with their technology before the ZFA could have a chance to send a Pulse after them next.

Only several years later did the survivors return back with crudely made satellite technology. That is, the ones that didn't want to go to the United Kingdom and ally with them against the ZFA.

But, South America is anything but wasteland or space junk.

Clay block styled half burnt city blocks from yellow and chalk white to scarlet and deep sky blue go for miles. Hydroelectric dams line the city borders, with mostly yellow gearwork like water gates studded in emerald shards over large waterfalls.

Rural crop fields mountainous, brown, and green are scattered among the cities, in a giant quilt of constantly endangered praxis of good natured people of yesteryears against the Post-Pulse crime ridden cities. Even the Falkland Islands, abandoned by their own people and all the wildlife they could bring to go join forces with the United Kingdom against the ZFA, is reminiscent of the crime ridden.

As the plane starts its spiraling descent for the smog swirled storm clouds rolling by Brazil... Max is tempted to look out at it all.

But, in the plane, she's in a armchair: Looking through some manila folders full of classified satellite feed, and physical copies of Eyes Only questioning with some South American immigrants down by the west coast of Post-Pulse America.

Sydney's open briefcase computer is on Max's lap. Sitting across from her is Sydney.

Her hair is tied back and braided. And, she's in a ripply pond water styled T-shirt with electricity emitting ripples around two geometric CGI like orbs: With one dark red and one light blue.

Kind of uneasily, Max comments, "damn. And I thought Trevor Reznik had the worst insomnia."

Kind of casually, Sydney asks, "why? You think I shouldn't have gotten you to watch The Machinist?"

Max thinks out loud, "no. Depressing? Maybe. It was right up my alley. But, it was all right."

Sydney reasons, "oh. Well, if you liked the Machinist... We can watch The Call next time you come over. It should also be right up your alley." With a faint smile, Max figures, "sounds good."

With a faint chuckle, Sydney figures, "sure." She then adds, "but...are you ok?"

Nervous sounding, Max admits, "not exactly. I just saw the email you left up."

On the screen... There's a short email: Under a disposable cell that is no longer reachable.

It says:

I don't have much time.

I'm in Paraguay.

I heard of Eyes Only. But, please...find Max. A X5.

We believe we found a ZFA stronghold. Please tell her to hurry.

Thanks,

Seth

With some unease, Sydney figures, "yeah. I get it. But, if you and Syl came back from VR.9..."

Max concludes bittersweetly, "thanks. But, no reconnaissance agent has come back alive from South America. And, all these feeds are years old."

Sydney solemnly says, "three years old. Still...I think you'll be ok."

Max inquires, "how?"

Sydney highlights, "well... Going in without much to go on... Trying to help someone hurting in the jungle with your brother Seth... I don't know about you. But, it sure sounds familiar to me."

Max faintly laughs in reflection. She says, "yeah. I feel you. Thanks."

With a faint smile, Sydney concludes, "you're welcome."

A few hours later, as afternoon is swiftly pushed aside for nightfall...

Gray stone arches and thick cobblestone like arches hold up the city blocks of Paraguay. Lofts stacked in clay block styled apartment sized towers from very light green to solid yellow and dark brown go from block to block. Half pipe waterways with car wash styled water filters and glass casing run across the cities overhead, with yellow and gray striped stone carved poles holding them up.

Most of the people are dressed in traditional solid color dresses and rags, from white and striped orange to red and grayish light blue. But, they all look to be on edge one way or another. Not even the Paraguayian harps and tertiary-binary mixed polkas playing around the night clubs seem to really help.

Across the thousands of groves of trees and river bank like canyons... Cell phone towers and internet cafes are plenty.

Further up... The step pyramid sculpted hotels of Brazil and Venezuela are lit up like night clubs before washing over pale blue tidal waves. From the other side, gunshots and sparks from going off EMP guns are heard.

Past some bank riots from guys in Mesopotamian tribal costumes firing off crumpled marble like handheld tranquilizer guns at the employees... Past some sneaky scuba divers in dark red and purple swimming down a waterway to grab some emeralds that have somehow sunk to the bottom... A shaken looking Max is walking down the dirt road in her signature catsuit.

Down by some city blocks up ahead... Some military looking guys in black are brutally beating on some screaming thieves in rags, with dark red liquid dripping from whirling motorized waterwheel styled blades from their black gloved hands.

Max is getting curious looks from most of the teenage girls and boys. Others are too nervous around the military looking guys to say anything above a worried whisper in Spanish.

And all the while, she is thinking to herself:

This night just plain sucks.

I'm in commerce territory. No police. No cybernetic asses.

Looks as though the ZFA didn't even send a Pulse. All they did is take over things the old fashioned way: With all the guns and gangs they can get in good with.

People are getting kicked out here out on their asses, living with pathetic lives that they sure as hell don't deserve. And, to get the ZFA to go down hard...I got to lay low for this mission.

Heavy sigh.

Some lay low down on fruit farms, chilling and crap with their holy Catholic text away from the capitals. Others are just out for C.R.E.A.M. and to chill.

Well, out here in Paraguay anyway.

South America: Where most cities are run by gangs and fences in good with ZFA, and the rest is run with elders out with crops and their families just looking to survive.

After going into Belarus, it wasn't that hard for Sydney and Logan to put two and two together. Kai and Cai have come to Brazil a lot...and trying to get Bane out alive started to open that whole lead straight up.

Sniffle!

No reconnaissance agent has come back to really know for sure what the hell the ZFA is doing down here.

Still... Sydney says this is like VR.9, and that we'll save the world and Beka and Seth will be okay. So, why the hell am I still kicking myself over all of this?

Seems Peru is in good with Mexico more than just of late: Even with the armed revolution going on down there lately of guys who have had enough with the bastards on their media towers. Even Venezuela seems to have their own hydroelectric dams.

Least in the Middle East, there's no one really to watch out for. Just tents and homes on mobile and a hell of a lot of oases.

Still... After the Pulse hit Europe... Just about anyone getting their shoot on for Muslims shot them down, along with the more "PC" terrorists.

Whole place went up in smoke till there wasn't much left. Some crappy shot for commerce and getting to chill.

Suriname had it just as worse. Even flying over was long enough to know.

Faint laugh. How pathetic is that?

I wanna be a revved up girl, kicking ass with my inner bitch. But, deep down...I'm still a lemon: Kind of wanting to feel sorry for all the rich people who wanted to spend obscene amounts of money for cabins in the woods just so they can cheat on their wives and chill with strippers.

After the Pulse, most of them had gone from rich to poor in a whole day. And, now they're with diseases or worse for real: Down there with the downtrodden they had all depressed 100 percent.

Rich guys and bastards though keep coming. And, for months, here I thought it was best to not grip on to hope in one big dealio that is a broken world.

More and more though...I can't help thinking that maybe there is some large hope for the broken world: Like a lost page found for a bedtime story, and it turns out it's a happily ever after. And, his name is Logan Cale.

One way or another... If he's always been a kind of pathetic rich guy with Sydney getting his back, and he's my Messiah... What does that make me?

Just "this bitch" going on about how much better I am than the world and setting myself up to kill myself for real over it? Or...am I still the bitch Logan knows and loves, and I'm just kicking myself over the world still being broken when he's so close to his liberal wet dream?

Faint sigh.

I can't keep kicking myself over this. Or, I am gonna get killed.

But, after all of this crap with the ZFA is over with... I'm sure as hell gonna think on it: When it won't start giving me a headache.

As night gives way to dawn...

After hours of searching, Max finds someone.

The figure is sitting by one of Paraguay's hydroelectric dams: With a pale green lined mostly gray and dark brown barred aqueduct like set of four medium sized water gates over a waterfall, and metal crafted paths around it. The paths have metal fencing, and glass casing over them decorated in plenty of dim yellow lit security sensor lights.

But, he's not on a metal path. He's down on top of one of the water gates below: Looking down and looking asleep, while his grayish metallic tinted skin glistens in the water droplets coming off of the water gate.

As soon as he hears footsteps though... He dives off into the water.

The grayish metallic bone like fins on his legs splash down with great ease.

Max faintly grins to herself. For, she knows who he is.

She walks down to the thick grass covered riverbank. The figure with medium dark brown hair and a mostly full body black swimsuit on is swimming up to shore in mere minutes.

He's quickly drying himself off with two very light blue waterproof chargeable portable dryer mini-fans from his belt. Max is just standing there all the while.

After a bit of this... Seth puts the mini-fans away.

He then looks up. And, he beams at her.

He realizes, "Max." Max concludes, "Seth."

Seth thankfully voices, "I'm so glad to see a familiar face."

They hug each other tight.

After a bit, they pull apart. But, more for Seth's sake than hers.

Max figures lightly, "faint laugh. You always were so touchy feely. Still...looks like you've been working out. Maybe it works out for you."

Seth uncomfortably murmurs, "except in what should be."

Max's expression goes straight to concerned. She wonders, "you ok?"

Finding it hard now to look up... Seth answers, "no."

Max suddenly realizes, "sorry. I didn't know."

Seth insists, "it's ok. You're right: I always was emotional. Even for our class in Manticore."

Max reflects, "damn straight you were. But, you killed yourself on those obstacle courses. The only ones in our family that would give you a hard time were Ben and Zack. But, no more so than me."

Seth comments, "Ben was hard on everyone. You know that isn't saying much."

A little uncomfortably, Max reasons, "yeah. Well, still... This isn't just another mission to you. Is it?"

Seth concludes somberly, "yes. You know about the latest murders going around across South America?"

Max answers upfront, "only what little Eyes Only knows of enemy territory here. What is the big dealio on this, and what does the ZFA got on it?"

A teary eyed Seth sits down on the riverbank. Max sits by him.

No one else seems to be here this early in the morning. They're alone.

Despite looking shaky... Seth starts to go through it all, "it started with the ZFA. For years... Sniffle. Me and Beka have suspected they're behind the Pulse."

Max admits uncomfortably, "been there, done that. Go on."

Seth nervously gulps. He takes a deep breath.

He then continues, "ok. On top of that, we have suspected their central stronghold is here: In Brazil. They do serious business here and everywhere else in cities across South America with the gangs. Sniffle. Most of their liquid metal and motor oil comes from them. But, they're guarded by cybernetically enhanced soldiers out of black market terrorists. Every time, we kept being driven off: Until a month ago. And, it's my fault."

Looking incredulous, Max turns to him, "how? You never wanted to hurt anyone unless there was no other way."

Seth starts to voice, "it's not what I did, Max. It's what I didn't do. Sniffle!"

Tears fall from his face. But, he doesn't wipe them away.

Still not looking up... He reveals, "three months ago, we got into a argument. She began thinking I was too weak to be a soldier. And, we went our separate ways. Then like a month ago..."

Max solemnly puts two and two together, "...she thought she could infiltrate their stronghold on her own girl power. And, you blame yourself."

Seth lowly mutters, "how can I not?! Deep breath. Sniffle!"

Max just sits there uneasy in silence, waiting.

After a bit, Seth continues, "she...she killed a ZFA member. I couldn't find Beka. But, there was a second big trail of blood. I got a sample before authorities got there. And, I believe it's Beka's."

A chill goes down Max's spine.

She reasons uneasily, "so she's not dead. Her mind's back in Manticore."

Seth admits openly, "I've thought of that. Except that's what gets me: The murders don't have much rhyme or reason, and all of them brutal. All my fault. We got to stop her before it gets worse."

On the last part, Max is thinking back to Syl's trigger episode: Even though she's trying hard not to.

Bordering on creepy... A teary eyed Max concludes, "oh god. Kind of late for that. It is worse. Her mind's in the jungle, and she's on the move. Probably from taking a head injury."

Seth concludes shakily, "yeah."

He then turns to her, still teary eyed.

He asks, "you think we can get her out of that jungle?"

Max faintly smiles. She firmly says, "yeah. We're getting her out."

After a deep breath... Seth says, "then maybe it isn't too late. Come on. Let's go."

Max firmly nods, "sounds good."

He starts to get up. So does Max.

Soon enough, they're both on the move.

A few hours later, over in Brazil...

With these recent murders around Brazil one way or another, Seth and Max are starting their search there.

But, with a lot of ground to cover, Seth gave her his backup red lined gray disposable cordless phone before they split up. He has a dark brown lined cordless gray disposable phone of his own: From before Beka left to try to go off on her own.

Across most cities, the sun is coming up.

Pink ice cream cone graffiti to jagged graffiti of distorted red and yellow images of a guy in a grayish shirt resisting arrest from ZFA guys cover most every bluish green and dark blue neon lined city block. Businessmen and businesswomen in mostly black and dark blue shorts with zip on and zip off matching leggings and gray to dark green sweater like attire, prostitutes in silvery lined bikinis, and gang leaders in black with silvery laser tipped and spiked up cybernetic hands walk down the streets.

There's a natural casualness and friendliness to them. But, with most everyone with a pistol in hand as they walk nervously by each other, it's become just for appearance's sake in the public eye.

Silver and yellow lined billboards with Brazil's flag over them have become like informal concerts in a Post-Pulse Brazil. Live streams of soap operas and old fashioned cartoons from A Carnival of the Spirits and Days at Techno High to The Senhors of a Thousand Swords and Dotour of the Space Saltar play all day before open stadiums of jet black metal chairs.

It's free. But, the water bottle dispensers charge five bucks a bottle there. And, the monthly edition of the Billboard Guide costs ten bucks every month.

Capoeira dance clubs in Brazil have become a prime target for gangs: Both ZFA loyal and not. They never stay in one place for long. And, they have many names and underground allies on both sides.

Diner cart like mobile fast food joints and restaurants with international dishes for two are plenty. But, most of the owners are in the pockets of gangs: Whether forced to take protection money just to stay alive or not. Even getting pizza to go can be lethal if the box isn't double checked for a time bomb on arrival.

Across the countryside though... There's miles of farmland with many a gold course styled path through the cropfields and the thin grass covered fields.

Techno to MPB plays across the gray and light blue CD players on the doorsteps of yesteryears.

But, in spite of no internet and minimal necessities and electricity from living off the grid... Everyone in these loft styled wooden like houses look happy in their mostly black and dark blue shorts with zip on and zip off matching leggings and gray to dark green sweater like attire. They greet each other in Brazilian Portuguese and Spanish and often dance in kind of good cheer: Almost like the Pulse never came to North America.

Metal dark green walls covered in grass surround the farms and livestock: Equipped with tear gas smokescreens and retractable spikes to ward off the gangs that occasionally try to come and take the livestock for themselves to try to sell overseas for some quick cash.

Seth swims along the rivers, looking for any sign of Beka or going off EMPs by the farmland.

Max is run jumping from flat roof to flat roof of the storefronts and blocky houses, hoping to get the jump first on Beka or the ZFA.

But, as she's about to jump to another... The sound of helicopters leaves her at a pause.

Two hundred rustic red lined brown helicopters with Chinese and Russian written across their side doors are taking off like hell for the North Atlantic. But, not before some go out of their way to fire heavy duty gray tinted black lined rustic brown missiles at her.

Max mutters to herself, "damn."

She tumble runs on the roof.

She's about ready to jump for it. But, the missiles go off early: Exploding in the air.

It was some kind of final warning. And, Max knew it.

She was only able to catch a little with her cat like eyes. But, in both languages...it says "Z For A".

Over cordless phone... Seth checks worriedly, "Max? You ok? Max?!"

Max heavily sighs, "I'm ok, Seth. I'm not hurt. But, I think it's a little late to check on the stronghold now. The ZFA just left."

Seth is drying himself off with his mini-fans by a tree.

He suddenly realizes, "were those the helicopters...?"

Max solemnly adds, "yeah. I'm sure they are: Which means they're doing something large sooner than later, and they didn't want to chance us finding out. Could just be because of what happened with Beka though."

Seth figures grimly, "looks like. I'm looking. But, I don't see anyone after...me."

Max checks nervously, "Seth?"

Through static... Seth says, "B...ek...a!"

Max calls out, "Seth? Seth?! Damn!"

She hangs up.

She jumps fast over some guys on motorcycles going by. And, she runs for the nearest riverbank.

Twenty minutes later, by a certain riverbank...

Max finds the tree Seth was standing near. She soon finds him on the ground unconscious.

He's heavily bruised on his head with dark red liquid around his mouth.

Max faintly smiles to herself in sharp relief as she notices his blowhole with her cat like eyes. The blowhole in his back is breathing heavily for him.

She sees a figure all too familiar to her up ahead, holding a rusty brown rifle.

Her expression goes back to serious as she runs after her.

Max calls out warningly, "Beka!"

Beka stops before a house. A family's having a barbecue out back: Completely unaware of who's coming.

A improvised cast of pale brown cow skin is around her head. But, dark red liquid is dripping along it like crazy: Even after all this time. Even with Manticore blood and well done self done stitching, the wound is healing and coming apart again and again from all the strenuous running around.

Max stares very uneasily at Beka's now Frankenstein like face, turning to face her.

She tries hard not to. But, she can't help it.

She has fairly long very pale horn like red hair over her shoulder, laced in dried dark red liquid. The cow skin comes just barely over one of her agitated eyes. The contact lenses she had on since Manticore are barely holding as it is. Bone is sticking out of her gray tinted hide like skin like tiny horns.

Putting on anything bigger than a black military vest for a top has always been a nightmare for her to put on. Even her light green jeans are unintentionally riddled with holes.

In a unexpectedly dry deep like voice... Beka says, "Max. You come to see retribution?"

Max looks at her kind of funny. Max brings up, "retribution? You're not just killing ZFA. You almost killed Seth. And, you're about to kill a lot of innocent guys on the other side of the wall just cause you think they're looking for a hit on you. But, they're not."

Beka takes a few minutes to take some deep breaths and cough violently some.

Max rolls her eyes annoyedly, waiting there.

Beka then looks up again.

She glares back, "innocent? Innocent?! I scoped the stronghold out myself! Violent cough! It's all a big stronghold! Only monsters and soldiers here. Which are you?"

A teary eyed Max grabs her arm. Beka reactively grabs hers.

As delicately as she knows how, Max breaks it down, "we're not just soldiers, Beka: We're family. Don't make this all about going after ZFA. You're not well. All me and Seth are really here for is to come to help you."

Bordering on angry, Beka mutters harshly, "then let go: Now!"

Max sniffles hard: Even though she hasn't let go.

Sounding just as shaken...she concludes, "I'm sorry. I can't. I can't let you kill innocent people."

Beka tumbles down to the ground in seconds, hurling Max off into the tree.

Beka mutters creepily, "big mistake."

Max falls down dazed, instinctively clutching her now heavily bruised arm. All from one throw.

Her head is pulsing like crazy. Her vision is starting to blur.

Beka gets back up easy, walking toward her.

Max mutters under her breath, "damnit! Violent cough!"

She starts to get to her feet. But, Beka violently rams her bone horn covered elbow into her.

Max doubles back against the ground, now clutching her dark red liquid dripping side.

Her vision's getting worse. But, so is Beka's.

Beka stumbles over, struggling to lift herself up while she's coughing up dark red liquid. Max can barely pull herself back up from the tree as she's coughing up dark red liquid.

In spite of all of the strain... Beka suddenly gets back up again.

She pauses to pull a entire empada slice out of one of her jean pockets: Which she eats through quick and easy like a elephant drinking water at a watering hole.

Max knows she's only got one shot.

With a violent groan...Max with closed eyes reaches for her crossbow.

She readies it quick: Despite the painful snaps from her heavily bruised arm and sides.

She loads it with the cordless phone and fires.

It violently hits Beka in her side, not far from the stomach. No horns or thick skin there.

She groans violently. She goes down hard.

She just lies on her side, gasping for air.

Even with all the injuries she's got... Max walks very slowly to her.

Deep breath after deep breath, one violent cough after another... She opens her eyes very slowly.

Everything's so blurry.

She thinks back to when she had to walk with metal planks to keep going. And somehow, this only feels close to feeling that much worse.

Max faintly chuckles. She hears she's still breathing.

She falls down by Beka: Already feeling herself falling unconscious.

Still lying there...Beka feels her pulsing head.

She surprisingly looks teary eyed and red in the face.

She slowly starts to get up on her second wind.

Beka sniffles. She realizes sadly, "I'm not dead. You not a monster. I'm sorry."

Max comments, "yeah. Thanks. Faint chuckle. You always...violent cough...were hard headed."

She falls unconscious.

Beka mutters angrily at herself, "I know."

She sighs heavily with mixed relief.

She's still barely breathing. But, after a few minutes... She gets up again.

Beka checks Max's person for anything of help. She finds the Eyes Only ID badge in her pocket.

She faintly smiles to herself: Knowing what to do now.

With her strength, she carries Max's body out of there.

People go to check where they heard the sounds. But, they're already gone by then.

Several hours later...

Max barely comes to a little: In a hospital room with light green sheets and curtains.

Everything's still blurry. But, she sees Seth in a hospital bed: Before the drapes go over it.

Some tubes are in Seth's arm and in Max's arm: Pumping anesthesia in them.

A bunch of unconscious hospital guys line the floor.

With some self injected needles sticking out of her arms though... Beka is standing by Max: With a lowered rifle in one hand, while she's dialing the last number left on Max's more official cellular phone in the other hand. Logan's number.

Max just faintly smiles as she falls unconscious again.

She and Seth may have just become patients along with her. But, with a reawakened Beka, they're in fairly good hands: All things considered.


	21. Episode 21: Power Play, Pt 1

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 21:

A week later, up in Logan's apartment...

Max is lying naked in her Jacuzzi: All relaxed, with all the steam and water bubbles from the recently turned off water jets. It's also night out.

From the other side of the apartment, she hears Logan moving the mouse at his main computer.

Max calls out to him, "so... Anything on ZFA, or whatever you're churning over there?"

Logan heavily sighs.

Max inquires, "you ok?"

Logan comes around the Chinese screens, in a black sleeveless workout shirt.

Kind of awkwardly, Logan concludes, "yeah. I think I will. Just... I know how hard it is for you: Beka being in a mental hospital."

A little teary eyed, Max reflects, "yeah. Still... Least she chose for herself: Even though I tried damn hard to talk her out of it...after we were all conscious all over again."

Logan says lightly, "you're right. You are usually: Especially when it comes to your family."

Max faintly smiles, "damn straight I am. Thanks, Logan." He adds, "you're welcome."

Max is drying off and getting into her dark red bathrobes.

Logan starts to make his way to the kitchen area. But, he pauses.

He reasons, "I should start on dinner. But, you should take a look at this. It involves ZFA."

Max just goes, "okay."

As soon as she's fairly dry and in her robes... She goes over to his main computer.

She sits down before it. She plays the Eyes Only footage on the two monitors, with two quickly pressed enter keys over two bright yellow play buttons.

Footage on the main monitor is from a off the record conversation with Beka.

She's in a medical bed, riddled through with holes with her horns.

She's looking a little dazed from the anesthesia taken.

At this point in time, she just recently had a operation to have her head closed for real.

Her head and hair is cleaned up, still kind of damp from the water. But, there's no more cowhide on her head. And, there's only a large dark red soaked cast like bandage over the stitching.

She's surprisingly already calmer looking, considering what she's been through.

There's a very light blue diagonally lined bolted wall behind her, a small gray cart on wheels for a camera mount, and a blacked out back of a figure's head before her.

The Eyes Only agent questions, "where did you find this pager?"

In a kind of thick but cool rounded voice, Beka explains, "off of the ZFA monster I took it from. I hid it down Brazil's borders at a secured safe house of my own. All you got to do is send one of your special ops soldiers to grab it up. And, tell Eyes Only I said kiss the ZFA asses for me."

Beka faintly smiles at the last two parts. Max smirks to herself over it.

While that footage is playing, the left monitor is showing what was recorded off of a ZFA pager.

All other attempts to record cycling images from the pagers has failed, after they were disconnected shortly after the few loosely cobbled together ZFA left were taken in.

The found pager looked beat up. But, it was cycling through last images it got before it gave out.

It comes up to images of power plants across the western world: France, Spain, America... Every country beside the Caribbean and South American countries that's gotten back up since the Pulse.

As Max's smirk quickly fades...it dawns on her.

Glaring at the cycling images... Max mutters under her breath, "damnit!"

Her first instinct is to hurl away the monitor, smashing it. But, she stops herself.

The ZFA is planning a second Pulse. And, the fate of civilization rests on Eyes Only's shoulders.

Another week later...

It's May 31st: The day before the Pulse hit twelve years ago. But, so far, it's been kind of quiet.

Still...it's Seattle. There always seems to be something not so quiet going on.

A fairly recent game in Epic Games's midway parks chain MegaEpic ChargeWay has come out, along with a lot of mixed reactions. It's called Shadow-Cam Recall.

With EA's fall in 2012, Epic Games has taken up most of their games over in Guildford in the UK with a wave of surging popularity: Including their own Gears of War series, and a entire reboot of Mass Effect 3 under Mass Effect 3 Re-Effected just to satisfy outcry for Mass Effect 3.

Players control avatars, with thinly made black and brass cap like implants all over like fighter skaters. They're punching and kicking other players at their sparking off implants to take them out and rack up points, while riding rocket skateboards around a skate rink styled city sprayed all up in graffiti.

It's no wonder the military guys still around are so uneasy with it.

But, for younger guys down the west coast, they've been playing hours into the nights of May.

Before the booths of one of the white lined dark red wavy walls of a MegaEpic ChargeWay...

Sketchy has on blackish gray gauntlets and blue rimmed tinted robot like safety goggles. He's playing against some guys in matching gauntlets and goggles, with t-shirts mostly in black and yellow.

As the final seconds go off on the round... Sketchy's implant covered avatar is kicked off his rocket skateboard: Snapping in half before a implant covered avatar's foot.

Their scores go up: With Sketchy at 50, a guy called Danny at 30, and the guy that kicked through Sketchy's rocket skateboard at 58 called Egon.

With a white lined light green plaid long sleeve buttoned shirt over white... Sketchy voices kind of awkwardly, "well, my finest hours on the midway freeway are up. But, good upside for you man."

Egon says, "are you kidding? Some of those moves were freaking fresh."

Sketchy bumps fists with both guys.

Sounding a little better, he adds, "thanks, guys."

Sketchy then notices Syl: Standing not far off, in her dark blue army jacket over her top with the rolling in thunderstorm on it.

Sketchy figures, "I got to go. But, I'll be up for another round later. Same time next week?"

Danny casually says, "yeah. That sounds like a plan, Sketch. Later."

Sketchy acknowledges with a faint smile, "later."

He takes off his goggles and gauntlets, dropping them back in a metal crate on his way out.

Sketchy greets her, "hey."

Syl says, "hey, Sketch. Are we good to go?" Sketchy assures, "with you? Always."

They're walking out closely together to the bike rack out there, faintly smiling to each other with Syl's face a little red. The sun is setting over the street they're on.

With a hand over his... Syl adds, "thanks." Kind of awkwardly, she's quick to wonder, "so...how are your more normal guy friends doing?"

Sketchy answers lightly, "oh, they're ok. I just got my ass kicked by Egon. But, I'm ok."

Syl faintly grins, "good. Because I wouldn't want to go without you." Sketchy figures, "and I don't either. We really are soulmates."

With a awkward smile, Syl admits, "ohh. Thanks, Sketchy. I always feel good with you."

Their hands part so they can start off. But, Syl gives him a quick kiss on the lips before they do.

She's quick to point out to him, "but, there'll be time for the bedroom later. We got to go."

Sketchy concludes, "sounds good."

Soon, they're unlocking the chains around their bikes and getting on: Taking off down the street.

Around then...

Max and Logan are under the white bedsheets of Logan's bed, making out "very closely". Logan's glasses are kind of buried under clothes to the side.

There's lit candles starting to melt.

Whirls from Logan's exoskeleton only get Max feeling him up all the more. Max's deep groans of pleasure get Logan feeling her up through her hair and down her neck.

Then though... Logan's computer box beeps loudly in the other room.

They both pause, looking right at each other awkwardly.

Max realizes, "oh."

They say at the same time, "I should get clothes. We should..." They both awkwardly chuckle.

Logan says, "I'll start blowing out candles. When we're back, we'll light them. No hold ups to ruin your mood." Max brightly says, "sounds good."

Logan smiles back as he goes further back to grab some underwear.

Not long after... They're both dressed: With Max speeding down the road on her motorcycle, and Logan in back and wearing a helmet over his glasses.

Logan is in a sepia colored long sleeved shirt. Max is in her mostly blue army jacket with the two brownish tan stripes down it, over a very dark blue T-shirt with sticker like light blue diamonds around curved claw styled dark red letters over a blocky yellow center to say "Rockin' with My Inner Bitch".

And as they're speeding down the road... Max is thinking to herself:

Original Cindy and Tara are celebrating their engagement, and most of us have got a invite in. Even Original Cindy is cool with it, cause Tara is ok with turning it into one of these open marriage things for scratching a itch...which is apparently a thing.

I mean, don't get me wrong. The mirth is all good.

Only, the only guy not invited is Devrom. And, I know why that is.

Original Cindy thinks he's "a science fiction tripping whack she don't know what to think on."

Can't really say I blame her. I sure as hell might have been at first.

And, if Original Cindy can't picture hanging with him, what does that mean for trying to bring him in to hang with us for real? Not a chance.

Still... Deep sigh.

I've been killing myself over the ZFA and still being a lemon over the whole broken world thing before all of this. It'd be sure as hell nice to get out and get together with my friends for a party.

Only...can I really? Even with what I've been kicking myself over for well over six months?

Thirty five minutes later...

Past the back of the Grillway Altair, past most of the dim orb lights... There's two private rooms.

Inside one... Two large glass red screen window like tables are before a swirl of blackness, stars, and diner counter styled silver rimming bent around it all like Saturn's rings engulfing space.

The tables have been pushed together for the occasion.

Sitting together are Tara and Original Cindy themselves, Max and Logan, Anin, Syl and Sketchy... Even Kendra and her boyfriend Walter.

Anin is in a light blue dress. Original Cindy is in a cleavage showing dark blue top under a grayish brown open sweater. She's also got a kind of thin silvery jagged necklace that Tara picked out for her instead of a engagement ring: Because Original Cindy can be just that picky.

Tara has her Sector cop uniform vest and helmet under her chair. She's in a silvery lighter looking dress with flame like splotches, and in her black high heels.

Walter is in his light blue jeans, a very dark blue buttoned overshirt, and a sleeveless gray undershirt. He has his Sector cop uniform vest and helmet over the corner of his chair.

Next to him is Kendra, with a arm loosely around his, her gold looking locket styled necklace around her neck, and a black top with WARRANT across in silvery letters over a black and white photo of a certain band member named Jani by a piano. Her mostly dark purple overcoat is over her chair.

Sketchy, Syl, and Logan have been talking plenty about businesses around town before the food got here. Max has chimed in a little. But, she's been mostly thinking to herself.

Original Cindy has been quick to wonder what's up. But, Max insisted it's just been a long day.

Logan has been avoiding looking at Walter much. After all, Eyes Only or no Eyes Only, he hasn't been super eager to hang out with him after the whole squatter deal went down south real quick.

Walter and Kendra are still sharing real life stories of Sector cops on the job, sports players, and local cashiers just looking for a pay day. And, a faintly smiling Anin keeps asking about them.

Max is a little weirded out by that. But, she's become so used to hanging with Kendra when she's with Walter that she's become good at not letting it get to her much.

By now... Most of the buffalo burgers and beer are already down to crumbs and empty glasses.

Max though got two mostly plain chicken sandwiches in barbecue sauce and a half finished tall glass of milk. She and Sketchy have already had three rounds of beer, while Syl finished all the beer she's going to have and has been looking slightly amused by how quickly they've been drinking.

Some ultraviolet hints of cleaned up spilled food from the floor and the little ants at the corner make Syl a little nervous. She's instinctively tempted to eat the bugs. But, she doesn't.

Walter and Kendra have been having a lot of fries. Anin has been having a salad with croutons a little at a time. And, Original Cindy's got a mostly finished apple martini.

Max suddenly gets up, having already wiped up.

She adds quickly, "I'll be back. I'm going to use the ladies."

Logan figures, "it's ok. We're all going to wash up anyway." Max faintly smiles back, "yeah."

She leaves through a black door to go down the kind of small black hall. Sketchy and Syl soon follow to wash up, having just about finished up otherwise.

Walter suddenly wonders, "so...you and Max...?" Warily, Original Cindy goes, "yeah?"

Kind of absentmindedly, Walter reasons, "well... You look to call her Boo or Sugar a lot. I was wondering if you ever "do it" with her."

Logan starts to get up with a glare, looking about ready to punch him out.

Anin gets up to face him.

She whispers harshly, "Logan! He's not coming after anyone. Sit down. Please."

Embarrassed sounding, Logan says lowly, "sorry."

He sits back down. That calmed down just about everybody's nerves.

A little amused and not all at once, Original Cindy remarks, "well... Least you didn't ask Original Cindy if she was knocking boots with another brother. We're not like that. I just got my own original flavor for talking about things." Walter awkwardly says, "oh. My mistake."

Original Cindy insists, "it's aiight. It's all good."

Walter adds, "thank you. Still...it's not the first time I got some pearls from a scuba diver "where the sun don't go". And, she had a sister."

Original Cindy and Kendra get a chuckle out of that. Logan, Anin, and Tara very uneasily laugh.

Not so long after...

Max is doing some push ups by the back way, with black gloves and her jet black jacket on.

It's raining hard.

She breathes heavily against the railing. She sniffles a little.

Max is thinking to herself:

There was this little game we used to play, when we were down and it was raining.

Kendra would ask me to score something. I'd ask her to score something.

I'd usually get the better thing cause I'm a genetically engineered pickpocket.

Faint laugh. Still... She was cool with it cause we always scored good.

Then, Original Cindy and I opened up more for real. And, she became my homegirl.

Our game kind of stopped being a thing. Life goes on.

It wouldn't take much for her to get it. I knew what would be coming.

It's kind of easy for her to get spooked...even though she's a little more "high minded" than me.

She's got dry eye. You'd never know she had episodes unless you can see her vibes straight up.

She's taken medicine off the black market to take the edge off.

It's been in short supply after the Pulse. Hospitals started putting more life threatening cases on the payroll and putting the rest on back burner. That is, until come February.

Suddenly there's enough of that stuff around, which I got to say is nice for girls like Kendra.

She's had nightmares from sparks, a scratch on a arm... And, she really doesn't want to admit it.

I found out later she got addicted to getting tattoos after her books got all burned up in the Pulse. She wanted to tattoo herself all over in covers, just cause she was worried about forgetting her classics.

When we started being roommates, I figured why she kept tossing and turning a lot.

She didn't know I don't sleep. But, I was up. More than long enough really.

After two months with me, she stopping turning as much cause we had one another's backs with self deserving mirth. But, once in a while, she'd still toss and turn.

Still...maybe she won't on this. The last thing I want with her is to make her nightmares worse.

The windowed door opens.

It's Kendra in her overcoat.

Kendra rushes over. She pulls Max close with a sympathetic arm around her shoulder.

She wonders nervously, "are you ok, Max? You seem like you've gone through hell and back."

Kind of sarcastic, Max comments, "I know. Thanks. Here's your purse."

She hands over the purse she took from her from, under some quickly getting soaked paper towels. Kendra grins, realizing it's not soaked as she takes it back under her overcoat.

Kendra concludes, "thanks. I told them I thought I heard a car alarm from Walter's car, and that I was coming out with you to check if that was all it is. In a way, it wasn't really a lie."

Max faintly smiles. She says, "thanks for having my back."

Kendra reflects, "sure. Still...you've never borrowed anything from me like this. Why did you?"

Max heavily sighs, a little teary eyed.

Max admits, "cause I'm not as ok as I'd like. And...I wanted to talk without ruining the party."

Kendra kind of nervously concludes, "Max... Please don't take this the wrong way. I'm glad you came to me. But, are you sure it's not just because you don't want to ruin Original Cindy's party? I mean, you do come to her for help a lot."

Max solemnly figures, "maybe. But, this isn't all to do with Eyes Only. All I'm asking is to help take the edge off."

Kendra faintly chuckles a little, sounding very relieved.

She realizes, "oh. Well, why didn't you just say that? You know I'd be glad to."

Max figures, "sorry. Guess I've gotten kind of used to breaking things down."

Kendra insists assuringly, "it's ok."

She highlights, "well... I still don't know entirely what it is you do. Maybe it is better left like that for me to sleep. But, I know you're fighting for good people around and out. For us. And whatever these ZFA whacks are, I know you'll give them hell. You and Logan."

Max grins. She says, "thanks."

Kendra adds, "no problem. Think we can go back in now?"

Max faintly smiles, "oh yeah. It'll be ok." Kendra concludes, "yeah. I know."

She and Kendra go back in. What Max hasn't caught is Logan glimpsing at her through the door.

A few minutes later...

Original Cindy faintly smiles in Max and Kendra's direction as they come in.

Everybody was back now: All washed up and in better spirits.

There was plenty of cake slices, with chocolate and vanilla with matching frosting.

But, before they could dig in... Original Cindy had something to say.

Original Cindy addresses everybody, "well, now that my homegirl and my sister are back... Original Cindy got something to say. First of all... Thank you for coming out here. Original Cindy is feeling a lot of good vibes here from all of you peeps."

A lot of faint smiles are around the room. Original Cindy and Tara are holding hands from under the table, with Tara faintly smiling her way.

Original Cindy goes on, "you know, when Tara originally proposed... I wasn't even trying to hear that. But then, as I thought it over... Well, she's my warrior princess. How could I really say no with her that easy? Still... If she's not the only girl I'd be knockin' boots with, who am I to judge? It's not like we'd tell the minister though."

Most everybody else faintly chuckles. Anin and Logan just kind of nervously smile.

Original Cindy figures, "and I don't need no fancy gift wrap neither. All I need in life for real are people that feel me and that are there to have my back. Though, dollar dollar to my inner bitch is always good. I welcome all donations: Long as it's not gonna get me in any trouble."

Everybody faintly chuckles: Except Max, who's almost choking from laughing.

Most everybody suddenly looks her way. Logan checks, "you ok?"

Catching her breath... Max insists, "yeah guys. I'm fine. How about we eat? Or, do I have to pay up for your inner bitch then?"

Most everybody looks amused with a faint smile. Sketchy adds lightly, "ouch."

Original Cindy faintly rolls her eyes.

Looking amused herself, she goes, "no. It's aiight, boo. Let's eat. But, if you want to pay up anyway..." Max lightly remarks, "I'll know where to send the cash."

Most everybody start grabbing fresh forks and eating their cake.

Tara brings Original Cindy's hand up to kiss it.

Original Cindy wonders, "I take it that was aiight?"

With a smile, Tara assures her, "I thought you might not have gotten all of this. But, damn: You sure as hell did better than I can here. Let's eat." Original Cindy smiles beamingly, "read my mind."

Several minutes later...

A brief glance of Logan's half eaten vanilla cake slice is seen as Logan closes the door behind him. He's out in the hall on his cellular phone.

Logan asks, "yeah? Are you sure this can't...?" In a low tone, he goes wide eyed, "what?!"

He kind of nervously says, "no. I understand this can't wait. Be careful. Yeah. I'll tell her. Just do what you can. We'll do what we can. Thanks, Sydney."

Logan sighs heavily.

He turns to go back in. But, Max is already standing there.

Having picked up some of the call with acute hearing... Max is quick to ask, "what happened?"

Logan reveals grimly, "the cells for the ZFA guys we took in... They've all been hit. Our airstrip was also hit. James Cabot's military unit is moving in on what's left of the airstrip. Preliminary evacuations are going out. Hundreds of guards are dead. And, that's if we're getting out of this easy."

Getting wide eyed, Max solemnly says, "oh god. How?" Logan explains, "Sydney still doesn't know how they got through the VPN intranets to lock on. But, from what she could find from hacking into the backup files, it looks like it was smart missiles. Probably ZFA helicopters twenty miles out."

Max points out, "wait. The pagers. Must be masked OTH-Radar signal relays or something."

Teary eyed, Logan realizes, "the pager Beka got. It was being held at the airstrip. Damn!"

He almost pounds the wall. But, Max gets in his way. And, that gets him to stop himself.

Almost glaringly, Max concludes, "yeah. We got to go." Logan adds, "yeah."

They go back in to break up the party a little early, with Logan closing the door behind them.

Around then, from Post-Pulse Europe to Post-Pulse America...

Prisons and warehouses are burning. Hundreds of corpses of prison rioters and guards line the forest and wasteland outbacks, still dripping dark red liquid.

Sixty cheering prisoners are following a slightly bruised Machettel out of a German warehouse safe house, carrying a lot of smoking rifles.

Hundreds more are making a break for it around the broken down homes, streets, and forests.

Near and far Germany... Many patrols are getting shot dead by freed prisoners...before green to reddish gray tanks crash through the streets in seconds and the patrols dive for cover.

They shoot off shells, wiping out most of the prisoners with craters echoing of their screams.

In the US, from Washington to New York... Sector police are getting everybody to storm shelters and emergency shelters. Most all the local businesses and a good number of the corporations in the east coast are offering their buildings as emergency shelters and military blockades: Even Normal's.

All the while, he's calling out, "come on. Come on. Inside! Bip bip bip!"

Most people are confused and nervous. But, after the waves of immigration and violence after the Pulse, there's not much left to be panicked over over a evacuation.

Walter and Kendra are soon returning home a few towns over so Walter can check with Sector Police there about his orders in case he's needed. And, with the evacuations and all, he kind of is.

James Cabot's troop and several Eyes Only agents are moving out for the burning remains of the Eyes Only airstrip, with James Cabot ready with a EMP crossbow.

But, when they get there... They grimly lower their weapons.

The two ZFA helicopters over Washington are too far away now.

Over Europe... ZFA helicopters are here, armed with their heavy duty smart missiles and rounds.

With gray to green... From Romanian to Louisianan army recruits... A ramjet is leading the France-UK allied fighter jets. Sydney's piloting, while Samantha and Duncan are in back.

Fifty ZFA members are parachuting down: Firing mini-missiles and blade launchers up at the incoming fighter jets from their liquid metal coated arms.

Sydney's ramjet shoots down most of the missiles, doing circles around them and drawing their fire. But, thirty fighter jets go down in flames for the European coastlines.

Teary eyed, Sydney glares out at all the helicopters.

She soon lands the ramjet in Machettel's path.

Machettel charges for a unflinching Sydney in the cockpit.

She's slashing through the glass with her katanas...only for Samantha to shoot her in the head with her gray pistol from behind the shattering glass. Machettel falls over dead.

In a panic, the rioters with her run in the other direction.

Military troops land fighter jets on the ground across Western Europe. Some remain in the air, firing down several ZFA helicopters in a blaze of flames while most of them suddenly begin to fall back.

Troops come out, most all armed with rifles. Their leaders and lieutenants have EMP crossbows and black rubber gloves: Courtesy of Eyes Only over months of making close to two hundred of them.

The fifty ZFA members come charging for them, covering the escape of the other rioters. But, they're soon falling back themselves when they realize troops have EMPs.

They mostly change back to mini-missile launchers...burning up screaming troops ten by ten by the second as flashes of trails of dark red liquid fly up.

Many troop leaders and lieutenants war cry as they release their grips on their EMP crossbows.

Some miss as they fire. But, EMPS hit ten ZFA members: Overloading them in fiery explosions of flying liquid metal, motor oil, and dark red liquid soaked parts.

Kind of nervously, Duncan checks, "so what's the plan, Syd?"

With very mixed relief, Sydney concludes, "well... maybe we should go back to the base in Southern California. See if we can find out anything about what else they could be looking to do."

With mixed unease, Samantha suggests, "okay. Give me your EMP gun and leave me. I'll go."

Duncan faintly smiles.

Sydney figures, "okay. But, be careful. We lost you before to one Committee. I don't want something like it to happen again."

With a faint smile, Samantha mostly assures, "it won't. Ask me again when I'm out."

A little amused, Sydney says, "all right. Maybe. But, how about fixing that windshield before we blast off?"

Duncan volunteers, "I'll take care of it, Syd." Sydney adds, "okay. But, we should hurry Dunc."

As he's looking further back... Duncan adds, "right. I know."

Over Japan... Some smart missiles are going for the nuclear power plants. Not much anyone is out on the pink and blue bubblegum pop and rock metal like billboards lined streets at near dawn.

But then, one by one...waves of water hit the smart missiles back: Just when they explode.

Guys in ZFA helicopters overhead think it's just the beginning of nuclear fallout and leave.

Exhausted... A self reconstituting Charim pulls herself onto the edge of a ribbed dark gray nuclear power plant, nearly out of breath and taking in deep breaths.

And, for the first time in a long time...she smiles brightly. Not even a little uneasy.

In Mexico... Incendio, Raul, and Jace are standing ground on one of the cobblestone path bridges, firing all they got at several ZFA members with mini-missile launchers.

Some of them stumble. Jace backhand punches two off the bridge to their quick deaths.

Raul and Incendio shoot down two more...only for them to stand right back up with bullet ridden rubber skin and upward punch them back in dazes.

On the Australian mainland... Ben Rembern and Jeff Shadnex are standing alone back to back in the center of a winding dirt road, firing silvery rimmed dark gray grenade launchers into incoming smart missiles and ZFA helicopters while breaking a lot of sweat and struggling to stand their ground.

Around the chilly shores of Iceland and Greenland... Phil and several Greenlandic hunters from the Înungniaĸ Nakuarssûvoĸ are out in Savfiugagssaĸ Pitsortuvoĸ exoskeletons, firing fishing nets and slamming down their crane arms to take out some ZFA allied criminals in mostly jet black scuba gear.

Even a few watery spirits have come to help, splashing into them to drive the divers back.

They were carrying waterproof very dark red green lined backpacks with explosives to plant in the ice for the ZFA to easily target the towns in Iceland and Greenland later. But, they seem far from successful: Much to Phil and the Înungniaĸ Nakuarssûvoĸ's relief.

In Canada... Caitlin Fairchild, having grown giant sized with her superpower, is pummeling back a army of unleashed mind controlled Neurom-Cam17 victims: Awkwardly calling out sorry a lot.

Her superpowered friends Grunge, Roxy, Burnout, Rainmaker, and Trauma Queen have gone ahead to go after the Walker Brothers in their own studio: The guys with mind control powers who were paid handsomely by the ZFA to pull off this massive stunt.

Cai herself is heading up one of the skyscrappers, looking to carve out some electronic backdoors and hypersonic blasting any military guys unfortunate enough to be in her way.

But, by the time she gets to the top... Krit and Zane are already jump tumbling down from some France-UK allied fighter jets to face her off.

And, with earplugs and their rifles loaded, they're not making it easy.

They fire a round of bullets at her. She reactively deflects them with her cybernetic arms.

But then, Zane dive kicks her from below...sending Cai violently crashing through several floors.

Her arms pulse and spark like crazy as she doubles over. Zane and Krit are running after her.

But, even with most all her cybernetics pulsing... She runs for the Canadian air courier plane she came in on not far from there and takes off all too easy: Leaving very frustrated Zane and Krit behind.

Down in the southern states of Post-Pulse America... Tank fortified police cars fitted with EMP gun turrets from cybernetics from the Far East black market are driving down the streets: With convention cults as the new authorities thanks to more than just popularity among the common people, and all the old government officials shot dead or tortured before Eyes Only could do a thing about it.

Many heavily bruised Belarusians with cybernetic arms and legs are hitting the streets tonight, because the ZFA offered them to be free from the Belarusian prisons "as a kind gesture of shìhǎo" for coming here in their place. They're nervously firing EMP guns and missile launchers at every Post-NeuronCam-17 police officer they can, hoping not to die.

But, ten by ten, they're burning and screaming in the dark: On both sides of the law.

Up in the Midwest... More ZFA allied criminals and heavily bruised Belarusians in mostly jet black scuba gear are swim charging for the underground cities.

The very nervous Belarusians are blasting off the shelter doors's locks with lasers in cybernetic arms so they and the others in their regime can come up for air.

Behind the mechanically opening concrete doors... Soldiers with plenty of grenades and sheriffs with shotguns are standing ready: Led by Devrom and a few former convention cult members.

Even Logan was really unsure about Devrom's newfound reserve team. But, over the past month, he's been training them with the not-so-official Eyes Only handbook. Now they got their chance.

Shots go off. Many ZFA allied forces and soldiers go down, with brief splatters of dark red.

With a uneasy but firm look on his face...Devrom back punches into a cybernetic arm, making it go off target and hitting a few Belarusians in their cybernetic arms.

They double over, screaming and clutching their flaming arms.

Devrom then side kicks the Belarusian in front of him, making him stumble back.

The Neurom-Cam17 agents are spin kicking and jump punching down many ZFA allied troops.

One of the Belarusians angrily shoots down one of the Neurom-Cam 17 recruits, making her double over as she's clutching her dark red liquid dripping side. But, even then, she grab hurls her into the cave wall: Knocking her out as she lands violently on the floor.

Around this time, up in Logan's apartment...

Max and Logan have gone up. Original Cindy, Tara, Syl, and Sketchy are downstairs in the lobby of Logan's apartment building, nervously waiting for them to come back down.

Max is on the bed, putting on her signature catsuit. Logan is opening a metal box by the couch.

Logan says, "so, about how you've been acting..."

Max uneasily comments, "that obvious?" Logan hints, "only to me and Kendra."

Max gets up from the bed, standing there.

Nervously, Max thinks out loud, "faint laugh. Don't laugh. But, more and more...with all the good we've gone and done for the downtrodden... I keep thinking maybe there is a beating heart in there. And, I still don't know if I'm ready. Okay. More like fifty percent of a heart. But...yeah."

Logan brightly smiles, "well...I'm surprised. I mean, I kind of always knew it was more like that. But, I know it's not a easy thing for you to admit."

Blushing a little, Max goes, "thanks. So...what have you got for me? Jewelry, or...?"

She comes out to see Logan: With steampunk styled gray exoskeleton arms strapped on with black straps.

Looking stunned, Max says, "wow. Did you build this all yourself?"

Logan admits, "not entirely. Courtesy of Sebastian. He got most of the parts."

With a faint smile, Max compliments, "well, I'm still impressed."

With some mixed feelings, Logan concludes, "thanks. But...I kind of wish we didn't have to use it. Sydney is out of town. We made this in case things got serious enough. I sure think it has."

Max starts to reason, "fair...point."

From the corner of her cat like eyes...she sees a incoming smart missile.

Logan asks uncertainly, "Max?"

Max tells him, "Logan...we got to blaze. All of us."

She's already pocketed some backup discs in plastic cases of the informant net on the desk, which she briefly flashes in front of him. Logan solemnly nods, faintly assured.

Max and Logan start to run like hell...as the whole apartment goes up in flames.

The Chinese screens tear apart. The computer explodes into flying sparking off pieces.

Fire alarms blare. Burning up wooden floors are coming down in smoke.

Tara calls out, "go!" Original Cindy comments, "don't have to tell Original Cindy twice."

Both of them and Sketchy run out of the building with the crowd of panicking people.

Syl stands there, trying to tell if anyone's attacking. But, the crowd makes it hard for her.

She's unintentionally knocked back a little in the midst of the smoke.

Suddenly teary eyed, Sketchy pauses in his run. He calls out to her, "Syl?!"

Coughing only a little... Syl calls back, "don't worry, Sketch. With Max and Logan scouting the perimeter ahead, I'll be all right. Go!"

Sketchy faintly nods uneasily. But, he runs to catch up with Original Cindy and Tara.

Not long after, halfway up...

Max and Logan are running down the emergency stairs. The door is burning down behind them.

Then... A eerily familiar face and two ZFA members show up. One called Scalpel has curly platinum blond hair and dried dark red liquid tipped vibro-scalpels for fingernails. The ZFA member called PennyBlade has curly blond hair and two completely dark brown penny blades in her hands.

Jean Stim realizes, "Max." Max realizes glaringly, "cyber-bitch."

Jean Stim mutters icily, "the CSIS killed my family just to try to arrest me. Now I'm taking it out on your godforsaken bodies: In blood!"

Logan and Max faintly smirk each other's way. They put their arms up, ready to fight.

Max shoots back, "bite me."

Jean Stim unexpectedly punches down at the stairs, making a hole in concrete.

Logan reactively gets in front of Max, slamming his exoskeleton arm into Jean Stim.

She stumbles back. And, Max swings off of Logan to violently kick her down the stairs.

She groans violently against the wall. But, she pulls herself out: Her back heavily bruised.

Logan pulls out his gun, shooting away the pennyblade PennyBlade throws.

She charges at him with her other blade. But, he shields himself with his cut in exoskeleton arm.

Now on her feet... Max hurl slams a glaring Scalpel into the railing.

But, even with her dazed state...she violently slashes into Max's side.

Max falls back a little. She's coughing violently as she clutches her dark red liquid dripping side. Her vision is blurring fast.

Teary eyed, Logan cries out, "Max!"

In that moment... PennyBlade stabs him in the side: Slashing his exoskeleton's other arm off.

Logan goes down...coughing violently and clutching his dark red liquid dripping side.

The last things he sees is Syl shooting down Jean Stim and flashes of dark red liquid flying from her head, viciously grinning Scalpel coming for Max...and the blunt side of a pennyblade taking him out.

In her head, in blurry afterimages...

She sees herself in a hospital bed: In a Manticore cell, in a light blue hospital gown with a creepily smiling Madame X standing over her terrified expression.

Max and Logan in bed, Original Cindy's party, the deadly fight on the stairs... Everything of the recent weeks blurs past in rippling heart beats.

Relentlessly, Madame X pushes, "you think you can escape who you really are? Listen to that. That's strong, isn't it? That is the heart of a soldier. A messiah. A martyr."

Max keeps crying out, "turn it off!"

She keeps struggling to break free and choke her. But, the thundering heart beats instinctively make her crouch back and forth: Struggling against her seizures.

Madame X's ghost pushes on, "he was quite a man, your boyfriend Logan. He must've loved you very much...to sacrifice his heart to someone who didn't have one."

Tears fall more and more from Max's eyes. She shouts, "no. No! ! !"

Presently, in the real world...

Max comes to: Covered up in a pale green hospital gown, lying on a black cushioned operating table. A red lined heart monitor is up, and hospital tubes reeking of liquid metal are in her.

Dark red lighting aches: Reminding her too much of a certain VR nightmare of hers.

Teary eyed, Max angrily mutters, "Cai. What is this? What the hell are you doing to me?!"

Standing over her is Cai, eerily smirking.

She turns to a approaching figure, "your time has come. Tonight is our night."

Max looks wide eyed. She's instinctively shaking all over.

For standing there by Cai...is a coldly smiling John McGinnis: With a pulsing red cybernetic scanner equipped eye over the left side of his head, and gray brown gloves reeking of liquid metal.

With hints of sick satisfaction, John McGinnis says, "a eye for a eye. Now I'll make you pay for turning Lydecker away from what was right and taking my eye."


	22. Episode 22: Power Play, Pt 2

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Episode 22:

Previously...

Kendra highlighted, "well... I still don't know entirely what it is you do. Maybe it is better left like that for me to sleep. But, I know you're fighting for good people around and out. For us. And whatever these ZFA whacks are, I know you'll give them hell. You and Logan."

Nervously, Max thought out loud, "faint laugh. Don't laugh. But, more and more...with all the good we've gone and done for the downtrodden... I keep thinking maybe there is a beating heart in there. And, I still don't know if I'm ready. Okay. More like fifty percent of a heart. But...yeah."

Logan brightly smiles, "well...I'm surprised. I mean, I kind of always knew it was more like that. But, I know it's not a easy thing for you to admit." Blushing a little, Max goes, "thanks."

Logan asked uncertainly, "Max?" Max told him, "Logan...we got to blaze. All of us."

Max and Logan ran like hell...as the whole apartment was going up in flames.

Even with her dazed state...Scalpel violently slashed into Max's side.

Max coughed violently: Clutching her dark red liquid dripping side, her vision blurring fast.

Teary eyed, Logan cried out, "Max!"

In that moment... PennyBlade stabbed him in the side: Slashing his exoskeleton's other arm off.

Logan went down...coughing violently and clutching his dark red liquid dripping side.

In Max's head... Madame X's ghost pushed on, "he was quite a man, your boyfriend Logan. He must've loved you very much...to sacrifice his heart to someone who didn't have one."

Tears fell more and more from Max's eyes. She shouted, "no. No! ! !"

Max came to: Lying on a black cushioned operating table...with Cai standing there.

Teary eyed, Max angrily muttered, "Cai. What is this? What the hell are you doing to me?!"

With hints of sick satisfaction, John McGinnis said, "a eye for a eye. Now I'll make you pay for turning Lydecker away from what was right and taking my eye."

Presently...

Max starts to feel a chill down her body.

Not wanting to show it... Max goes on to highlight, "really? You wanted to kill me for being in your way for months. And now, you give this bitch more power to kick your ass? Faint laugh. Truth is, I think you're all more whack than I thought."

With cold fury in her more mechanical voice...Cai says, "yes, Max. We have gone to much nǔlì to try to kill you. But, you left us jíshǎo choice! He wanted you alive. But, that may change very sù."

With a kind of nervous glare, Max taunts, "why? You Chinese guys thinking of blabbering at me to death? Cause you're already halfway there."

Cai concludes, "your parallel processing. We've know since Logan Cale tapped into our main satellite: That night you and X5-599 tried to rescue your fellow shìbīng."

In black and white... Max thinks back to when she and Zack went into a high level Manticore lab to try to save Tinga...when Logan hacked into a satellite with what seemed to be "just cloud cover".

Very much stunned... Max mutters, "you mean that satellite and the news over it was all just a whack decoy by the Russians you're in good with? I take it you went to start up your own Manticore with these cybernetic asses after Manticore had gone down?"

Cai eerily smirks, "Siligater Металл. They've been on the winning side from the beginning."

Kind of amused, John McGinnis admits, "still...you're wrong about me. They found me. They gave me my cybernetic eye, and a damn good paycheck for keeping their cybernetics up to speed after you killed Daisy. And once the world falls to the ZFA, I get to go back home and start all over again."

Max adds bitterly, "sounds nice. But, I just got to ask: How do you know me?"

John McGinnis coldly asks, "have you even asked yourself why you have parallel processing? Why you never really sleep in both hemispheres like most people?"

Max just faintly scoffs, "all of us got parallel processing. Not really that big of a dealio."

The shivering is suddenly getting worse quick. The little hairs are standing up.

John McGinnis concludes, "faint laugh. Only acutely. You have the real deal. You sure you don't remember those nights, alone with scientists on the bed?"

In a bright tint... Max thinks back to when she was just a kid: Lying on a operating table, with red and blue plastic cup like things over her head...and dark red liquid soaked scalpels and tasers held by scientists in mostly white astronaut like suits.

Max comments, "yeah. They were testing me just like the others. So?"

With a creepy smile... John McGinnis reveals, "it wasn't only a test. I was part of Manticore's administration: Off the books. You were the best in the class. The implant was meant to record your neural testing and track your progress. After the escape, there wasn't much left to work with. The Neuropsych department almost didn't happen. But, we got through it: With help from me."

Max looks sick, and not just because of the shivers.

On the verge of tears... It all hits her, "oh god. You tested on me just so you can brainwash my brothers and sisters to be more "ten-hut"?!"

She starts groaning in pain and shaking violently: More than she ever thought possible.

Her eyes feel they're burning no matter how fast she reactively blinks.

The surgical tubes tear off and crash away with dark red liquid soaked surgical tools from a operating table. The holes in her burn of solidifying metal.

Cai eerily smiles wide at Max's suffering.

John McGinnis says coldly, "not so cute now, is it? I want you to lose control of your life and know it. You cells keep healing you. But, the thing with your cells...is that any liquid alien to them can be attacked. They can extract the liquid metal before there's any permanent damage. They'll give you a temporary implant so you can fight again until the job is done. But, only if you cooperate with them. Give it long enough, and you and everyone you care about will die."

Max tries to rock back and forth like she often does. But, she falls back on the bed: Sniffling hard...fighting back the urge to sob and kind of failing at it.

Under her burning tears... She mutters furiously, "I... Violent groan! I will kill all of you. You understand?! After I get all this metal out... Violent groan! You're first, you son of a bitch! Violent cough! Violent groan! Violent groan!"

Cai places a white stars lined dark blue soda machine styled chest by her violently shaking side.

After a bit... Max coughs violently again. But, she turns herself face up.

She grabs the edges of the bed, shaking and glaring furiously at them as she barely sits up.

Some nervousness is across Cai's face. But, she ignores it.

With a glare, Cai pressures her, "this is your last chance, Max. You're highly skilled in telecommunications. You'll know this is real yīngdài'ěr."

Max snarikly adds, "what? No speech on tripping over your military intelligence run asses?"

Cai says condescendingly, "aside from Mister McGinnis, we're all bīngzú. We only speak "western" with our allies to get things done. Even you'd be impressed with the fāxiǎng we come up with together. The trackers and you being alive were only some. But, we've never been good at speeches."

Kind of sarcastic, Max mutters, "so you're not even good at plans yourself. Shame."

Cai is about to wring her neck. But, with some more mechanical whirls, she forces herself back.

Max shakily opens the chest: With the top as the curved in flatscreen, and the rest of the small supercomputer with just a touch pad to scroll through a database and a gold power button on top.

There's a very dark red shaded screen and video files of ZFA pager relayed intel: With captions in Chinese, English, Russian, and plenty of golden Chinese inscriptions along the tapestry styled sides.

She sees a video capture: Of the heavy duty smart missiles fired at her a few weeks ago.

She scrolls through another video. And, with widened burning eyes...she sniffles hard at it.

From Japan, Europe, Australia, Canada, and America... There's livestreams of underwater cams: Of some dropped down waterproof smart missile launchers, with black sunglasses tinted DNA scanner locks aimed at where Eyes Only agents and Max's X-5 family are resting or coming in for the night.

But, even with the wave of mixed feelings washing through her... Max's curiosity surges through: Grasping for something...anything she can do to break free from all of this.

From some black and white security videos from late 2009 narrated over in Chinese... She begrudgingly puts on the English captioning: Cause she can't exactly read the lips of a unseen narrator.

She quickly finds this to be of interest:

In ancient times, China was once full of prosperity and humanity.

It was once full of Rén, Yì , Lǐ, Zhì , Xìn: The Five Constants of Confucian ethics.

But, with "westerners" and their advances in technology defying and polluting the web of nature and life we've lived by for so long in social harmony...there was influence and corruption.

Rulers were becoming more corrupt and hungry for power. Soon, the "People's Republic" of China was established. And, even their own army suffered from their poisonous ways.

Screams and the sound of gunshots cuts through the narration: With many sped by public Chinese peaceful protests and riots on the cobblestone paved streets.

We realized in order to bring back social harmony... And to free the world from western influence and corruption in favor of a fair society... We had to retake it by force.

ZFA pager relayed intel goes by: Of killing Alexander Lukashenko, Vladmir Putin, and other greatly disliked politicians in their black cars by ripping the cars to shreds and shooting whoever is left.

In 2009, they were establishing kind relations with Russia. We turned in secret to a Russian hardware company with a specialty for metalwork: Siligater Металл.

It was paid well out of the "People's Republic" of China's yuan on the pretense "it's what they wanted". No one questioned it until it was too late.

The sound of gunshots cuts through the narration: Across some mostly white great hall styled high level buildings, with guns going off from dark green uniformed Chinese military from both sides.

Then... Every light is seen to have gone out. No emergency systems. No alarms.

Their liquid metal filled missiles had hit China's power. Soon, all western corruption was dead.

No security system. No warning for the corrupt.

We agreed to let Siligater Металл keep the technology. It was expanded to include cybernetics and neural nets with Russian and Chinese implants from their rapidly acquired companies for us.

Our freedoms were secure at last: Religiously, lawfully, commercially...and sexually.

We no longer had need for lawyers, judges, and "western" politics. They're dead to us.

The chosen few that aren't with corrupt beliefs are free from "westerners".

A rustic red tinted Chinese flag goes by...with Z of A written across in yellow.

But, to stay ahead of them...we keep under the radar: Until the final day comes.

Until the day when there truly will be Zìrú For All.

Max takes a long hard look at all of it.

She tears up with bittersweet tears in her eyes: Suddenly not sure whether to feel sorry for them.

But...then reality kicks her in her violently shaking ass. And, Max's glare returns.

With a deep sigh... Max concludes, "okay. It'll kill me in a whole other way. But, it's better than all of us not surviving."

With a cold smile, John McGinnis figures, "I knew you'd see it our way."

Max insists, "I'll take down Eyes Only. But, only on two conditions."

Cai argues furiously, "bùshì! She's going to try to kill us if we do. I should...!"

She admits somberly, "no: I'm not. Not this time. Sniffle! I'm used to being on the run. I know by now when something is too broken to fix in this broken world."

Some tears fall from Max's face.

John McGinnis turns to Cai, "I'd let her talk. You can kill her if you have to."

Cai firmly says, "fine. Talk!"

Max voices, "I'll take them down. But, I'm not killing them. Violent groan. They're my family."

Cai argues, "why not? They've killed some of our best soldiers: Least of all my sister Kai!"

Even as Max looks ready to come apart... She breaks it down, "cause without EMP guns, the informant net, or Sydney Bloom's own private ramjet, they're even competition for commerce. Oh, they'll still try to stop you from firing another Pulse on our asses. But, they wouldn't get the chance. Least then Eyes Only can get another shot at fitting in in your new Galactic Empire...along with me."

Sounding eerily calm now, Cai reasons, "ok. But, if you don't take them all out, you're dead. Then Logan. Then the others. Remember: We'll be seeing every move you make. Don't try anything."

Max answers back, "done. Violent groan. Doesn't mean I got to like it though."

John McGinnis picks up a extra box full of surgical tools, laying them on the operating table.

John McGinnis coldly reflects, "I know it. I know you don't. I really don't care how: Just as long as I can get a life back and you're stuck living with what you lost."

Max glares his direction. She declares, "if we meet again... I'll kill you."

John McGinnis just faintly laughs, "you won't. You'll try. But, I'll be too well protected."

Max starts to lie back down...knowing too well whatever anesthetic Cai is injecting in her is for.

Max mutters back, "yeah. Keep telling yourself that."

She falls unconscious again: Long enough for a very dark brown spherical implant with little red and yellow blinking lights to be surgically put in her head...where the Manticore implant once was.

Around this time, back in Seattle...

Logan has come to...on a faintly familiar hospital bed with dark green tiles around.

He expected to be in worse shape. But, there was nothing serious: Just a dark red soaked cast around his side...which was more scary in its own way to him.

His remaining exoskeleton arm's straps are patched back up with his torn up beyond repair shirt.

He's quickly realized where he is: Sebastian's warehouse.

Sebastian is gone. He left soon as he heard about the prison riots and smart missiles going down.

Shane is lying by the closed warehouse door, keeping watch and eating a peanut butter sandwich.

Logan nervously sighs, sitting on the bed while going through some Eyes Only classified files.

He stops looking though when he hears arguing in the other room.

Syl, Zane, Krit, and Sketchy are gathered around the dead monitor. Sketchy can barely even look up from sitting on the floor, shaking with deadly nervousness.

Teary eyed, Syl lowly mutters, "no! We can't just give up on Max like this!"

Zane nervously faces Krit, "Krit... If there's even a chance, we have to save her!"

Teary eyed, Krit argues cuttingly, "with what? They got one of the backup discs. There's no spare jets. Max is dead. By the time Sydney gets here...she already will be. We can't run this time: We're as good as dead. I don't like it either. But..."

With a slight glare, Logan determinedly figures, "no. She's not dead. We're not."

Sketchy looks up: Teary eyed.

He argues nervously, "how are you so sure man? From where I am... Sniffle. It looks hopeless."

Logan heavily sighs, with his arms crossed as he leans against the doorway in.

He thinks out loud, "guys...I know it looks that way. Still... Faint laugh. Whatever is behind those rubber masks the ZFA puts on... They broke into our communications more than once: Not to mention my apartment. They didn't take the discs then. Why would they start...now?"

He then hits on something. And suddenly, he finds it hard to look up.

Syl asks nervously, "what's wrong, Logan?"

Logan concludes frustratedly, "it was right there under all the hacks."

A little nervous, Zane questions, "what hacks? I'm...I'm just trying to keep up."

Logan summarizes, "daily Chinese propaganda, the crackdowns after the Pulse... They're all lies: Put out for any government spy that "happens" to get ahold of them. Thing is it likely goes both ways."

Starting to get up... Sketchy uneasily realizes, "wait. You mean like a spy satellite?"

His teary eyes start to dry. He sounds calmer, knowing Logan isn't going to just do nothing.

Turning back to him, Syl faintly smiles, "glad to have you back, Sketch."

Sketchy awkwardly says, "yeah. It's good I am. But, you helped." Syl adds, "thanks."

They hug each other close.

They look like they're about to kiss, swept up in the moment. But...

Zane is quick to point out, "it's good you're both better. But, we should hear what he has to say."

Sketchy and Syl pull away a bit, both looking kind of red in the face. Krit just rolls his eyes.

Logan faintly smiles. He just says, "thanks."

He solemnly continues, "we thought it might have been the Russians. They've been working on a lot of upgrades in cybersecurity. But, they weren't even hit by the Pulse. Still...it still didn't seem to really add up: Until tonight."

Syl and Zane both mutter nervously, "damn." Logan mutters, "yeah."

More confidently, Logan brings up, "but... Heavy sigh. What's important now is we're alive. And when Sydney gets back, we're going to China. None of us want Max dead. So, until we know for sure... Sniffle. We got to at least try to get her back. We got to take down the ZFA, whatever it takes. And even if we don't come back from this...we'll at least have done the right thing by saving the world."

Everyone else in the room solemnly smile and smirk to themselves.

Krit asks firmly, "ok. What's the plan?"

Logan answers simply, "I'll contact Sydney. See if we can get in touch with Seth and Tinga."

Syl reasons, "maybe they'll make it before we do. But, what about communications?"

Logan remarks lightly, "if anyone can hack her way past the Great Wall of China's automatic defenses, it's Sydney. I think we'll be ok."

Sounding more ok, Syl straight up says, "sure. I just wanted to be sure we're not going into another bomb. I want to shoot down some more of those cybernetic rats: Not us."

With a faint smile, Logan solemnly concludes, "sure."

Zane goes to check on Shane. Syl and Krit start loading up their rifles. Logan gets out his cellular phone and starts dialing. And, Sketchy nervously looks out one of the windows to the barbed wire fence: Not sure what else to do now but wait.

Not long after, back in China...

Max is clutching her side, groaning violently as she's walking down a long open rustic red arched dark green planked palace corridor. She's being escorted out into a marble courtyard by two joint commanders of the ZFA royal guard.

One is Chuàn Diǎn: Who has blade launchers all over his ghostly pale body and patches of burnt looking short black hair. The other is Luóxuán: Who has two xun lei chongs built in his arms and brownish streaked black medium hair. Only for him, his xun lei chongs has the sickly gray liquid metal mounted shielding as built-in bucklers and Chinese spearheads as blades to load into the musket tubes.

Solidified liquid metal roofs on Chinese pagoda towers of rustic red to sky blue tower above the long corridors making up the center of the ZFA's ribbed gray flat roofed military stronghold: Going from open windows with briefly seen nudist Chinese couples making out and human prisoners in shackles being beaten to death by metal studded Chinese paper fans...to Post-Pulse American refugees and Chinese teenagers playing target practice on balconies with little stone statues of the Devil, Christ, Ashtar Sheran of the Universe People, and Buddha with rustic red to bright yellow cybernetic arms.

The blocky courtyard is around a bubbling pool of coolant, sealed by a glass tank. Pinkish and green Chinese trees with bent branches stand at the corners. Rustic red Chinese lanterns hang over it all.

The main guard of ZFA's royal guard is standing around in lines of five: Standing still and facing down in respect to their commanders. They wear dark underglazed blue emperor styled tank armor plate enforced dress robes, with ceramic white lined sleeves and fold out Samurai swords in them.

Another tear falls from Max's face as she's escorted further on: Into a curving up roller coaster tunnel styled launch gate with a dark red Chinese dragon painted down it.

There's a opening into the darkness of the launch gate, with recently dosed in coolant the only glow inside a mostly white scramjet with black shuttle like engines.

Chuàn Diǎn emotionlessly hands Max some rustic red arctic gloves, before he and the rest of the royal guard slowly walk away.

Max puts on the gloves before prying the scramjet door open and slamming it behind her.

As the scramjet starts up the heavy duty conveyor belt, she buckles up.

It has a curved black tinted computer screen for windows relayed from built in cameras, and a phone dial styled grayish yellow wheel for controls.

Some grenades are by Max as requested. But, she completely ignores the gun to the left.

Teary eyed still, Max deeply sighs to herself.

She's thinking to herself, "too bad this isn't a Jetsons episode where I'm straight up sure getting a happy ending. Sniffle! I would have loved playing with this jet thing."

When the yellow lights light up at the end of the tunnel, she starts up the engines.

She rotates the dial to change the computer screen from visual to zoomed infrared as it soars up into the edge of the atmosphere. The balls of stars on the screen look so close.

With everything else going wrong tonight, Max didn't want to crash into a comet or something.

In twenty minutes, the scramjet is already diving into the clouds...back for Post-Pulse America.

After twenty minutes, at Sebastian's warehouse...

The other room's window is sheeted over with the bedsheet. But, past the two silhouettes... Sketchy and Syl's groans of sexual volumes aren't fooling anyone.

Neither is a stopwatch beep a few minutes later.

Syl's soon getting her rifle. And both of them are in their clothes soon after.

Krit, Logan, and Zane are ready. Logan's got Sebastian's backup disc of the informant net barely sticking out of his pocket, and his patched up exoskeleton arm on and ready.

Over his cellular phone, Logan checks, "Sydney? Did you get back ok?"

Sydney and Duncan are getting out of her ramjet, with Duncan with his pistol out and ready.

Over comm, Sydney answers, "uneasy chuckle. Yeah. We're ok. We're ready to go if you..."

Then... A grenade goes off.

The ramjet explodes in flames, knocking Sydney and Duncan violently against the ground.

There's some barking. But, it quickly gives way to a soft thud.

All Logan gets is static.

Over his cellular phone, he calls out, "Sydney? Duncan? Talk to me! Damn."

He hangs up.

Looking very nervous, Sketchy asks, "what happened?"

Teary eyed, Logan heavily sighs. He deduces, "that's what we're just about to find out, Sketch."

He instructs them, "Krit, Syl, Zane... Get outside. If there's a ZFA guy out there, bring him alive without a self destruct. We got to find out how they're planning a second pulse and when."

They just nod solemnly as they head out.

Sketchy is about to say something, when Logan nervously turns to him.

Sketchy asks just as nervously, "ok. If this is about me and Syl having..."

Logan insists, "no, Sketchy. Here's the disc. If they make it inside, I'll hold them off."

Sketchy takes the disc and pockets it.

He realizes, "you want me to run out fast and guard it with my life until it gets to James Cabot."

Logan figures, "exactly. You might be our only hope in protecting Eyes Only's future."

He punches a hole through a window with his exoskeleton arm and slams off the jagged pieces.

Sketchy awkwardly faintly smiles, "sure. Sounds like a lot to ask of me. But, I'm man enough for the job." Logan solemnly concludes, "thanks, Sketch."

Outside...

A teary eyed Zane signals Krit and Syl to circle around for the burning wreckage of the ramjet. He stays with Shane's body a foot away to check her vital signs.

To Zane's relief, Shane is breathing ok: She just has some ruffled fur from a sleeper hold.

Shane is about to get up again, rifle ready.

But then...a rustic red gloved fist punches him out from the side of a tree. He falls to the ground.

Syl and Krit are checking Sydney's and Duncan's pulses, who are both lying on the ground.

The back of their clothes are burnt. There's some purplish bruises on their foreheads.

With some relief, Krit deduces, "they're alive. Just knocked out from the blast."

Syl quickly realizes nervously, "almost like it was timed that way."

They both get up...seeing Max standing there.

She's got the rustic red gloves on as she's holding Sydney's EMP crossbow, charged and ready.

She stands there, trying to put up a brave front. But, all she ends up doing is bending over herself: Sobbing. Hesitating at the thought of them seeing her like this.

Syl and Krit stand there: Too shocked to say much of anything.

Teary eyed, Syl asks worriedly, "Max?"

Under her tears... Max mumbles, "I'm so sorry. I...have no choice!"

Krit asks nervously, "why? Did you get triggered?"

Max shakily kind of admits, "I don't want to be. But...I have no choice."

Syl is quick to fire. But, Max holds out the crossbow as a shield: Unleashing a electric flare.

Syl sharply groans, reactively covering her throbbing eyes and dropping the gun.

Krit tackles Max on the ground, trying to get her in a sleeper hold with his gun against her neck.

Nervously, Krit tries to assure her, "we want to help you Max. But, only if you can let us!"

Max almost lets the sleeper hold take hold: Welcoming it even.

But, on the edge of unconsciousness, her eyes feel they're burning up again. And, it reminds her all too much of what she came back for.

Max side jump spins her whole body over, slamming Krit violently against the groan.

He goes down...groaning violently before a teary eyed Max slams his own gun into his head.

Krit falls unconscious as Max run charges into the warehouse.

Sketchy makes a break for it through the window: Not even turning around to realize who's there. Max flip kicks Logan's exoskeleton arm into the wall...snapping the strap completely off as it lands right in a newly formed hole in the wall.

Logan winces as he clutches his rope burned arm, dropping the gun.

Max lands on her feet.

She throws off a grenade: Destroying the exoskeleton arm and taking out Sketchy from fallout.

Logan quickly grabs his gun...aiming it for Max.

He stands there: Shocked and teary eyed, ears still ringing from the explosion.

Logan shakily voices, "Max. I don't know what the hell is going on. But... Sniffle! I don't want to lose you. Please don't make me do this."

Max can't even look up. She can't help but sob and sob: Even as she readies her fists.

After some uncomfortable silence... Max shakily admits, "oh god, I'm so sorry. Sniffle! It's not what I want either, Logan. I want to come back. Really. But... Sniffle! I have no choice."

Max side spin kicks the rifle away as it fires: Going off into the dead monitor.

She punches him out. And, all goes black.

Fifteen minutes later...

Everyone's sitting around in chairs, holding up cold water bottles and ice packs over their heads.

Syl is seeing again. But, she's got a headache.

They all got slowly fading pulsing headaches. All except Shane, who's just sound asleep.

Krit asks restlessly, "tell me again. Why didn't you get her?"

Glaringly, Syl mutters back, "if it wasn't for my nictating membranes, I'd be blind now. As soon as I could see again, she was gone! Oh. And, yeah. I didn't see you do any better."

There's some awkward silence. Most everyone looks teary eyed.

Sketchy heavily sighs. He somberly figures, "well... Sniffle. Our numbers are up. But, we tried. No disc, no ramjet, no phones, no EMP slingshots... And whatever's up with Max, she's gone."

Syl concludes, "maybe. I don't want to admit it. But, maybe you're right. Still... Sniffle! I can't believe she'd just want to show up to kick our asses."

Zane recalls nervously, "you also said she was crying...and that you saw traces of fresh solid liquid metal around her body. I could be wrong. But, it sounds like the ZFA was forcing her to do it."

Duncan reasons, "yeah. Sounds plausible in a very creepy kind of way."

Very nervously, Logan figures out, "yeah. Max is nearly dead one minute. Then she wakes up infused with liquid metal. It kind of makes sense. But, the ZFA... They've never not tried to kill us before. And, why would she ever feel forced to work with...?"

In black and white... He was thinking back to some things Max had said many months ago:

Zack was warning Logan, "stay out of this."

Logan pointed out, "in case you haven't caught on by now, this girl is gonna do what she's gonna do, no matter what you or anyone else says. Now you've got two choices: Back off or pitch in."

Max added snarkily, "what he said."

Max solemnly said, "I know you're not too chill with what's going on tonight. It's a bitch psyching yourself up for battle when people are throwing around words like "deathwatch"."

Logan mostly assured her, "well, I think I know you well enough by now. There's no stopping you if there's something you need to do, especially when it comes to your family."

Presently...

There's another awkward silence.

Logan realizes, "damn. I don't know what the ZFA threatened us with. But, when it comes to her family... There's nothing Max wouldn't do to protect us."

Zane concludes, "wow. Ok. You think she strong armed the ZFA to go easier on us?"

With a faint smile, Logan comments, "I wouldn't put it past her."

Syl faintly smirks, "they must be really pissed off with Eyes Only. That I can believe."

Krit then hits on something, "still..." Sketchy wonders, "what?"

Krit brings up kind of nervously, "the ZFA might be slowly killing her. Recently injected liquid metal would be a foreign agent to our stem cells..."

Logan finishes tensely, "...and her cells would attack the new ones. And now we can't even get there in time to get her out of this."

With a faint smile though... Sydney hints knowingly, "well...maybe we don't got to."

Around this time...

Max is at the controls flying the scramjet...when Cai's voice comes over a greenish plastic tube like loosely cobbled together comlink coming out from under her catsuit.

She says cuttingly, "good work. Your next assignment is...to..."

Max tries to raise the signal with the controls. But...a familiar voice echoes in her head, "Max. I know how you felt you had to do what you did. But, you don't have to any more."

In memory flashes, in the not too distant past with the Eyes Only base in Southern California...

Samantha is cautiously walking around the darkness, pistol out and ready.

The monitors and hurled smashed in keyboards are sparking off like crazy as the only lights.

She fast walks down the dark corridor, finding several agents on night watch down on the floor.

She checks one of their vital signs. They're just knocked out.

Then, she hears a distant sounding familiar voice.

Samantha gets behind a corner. She peeks over it...finding Max there on her greenish comlink.

With her free hand, she hurls one of the agents's guns as far away as possible.

Samantha looks fairly shocked. But, as she's about to fire a warning shot...

Teary eyed, Max mutters harshly, "ok. I cleaned it out, you cybernetic bastards! Sniffle! I'm going to Logan's and getting this hell of a bitch over with. Not how this works. You so much as come, I'll kill you! That's not even going into all kinds of killing on your asses if you piss me off more than I already am by holding my family at gunpoint. Understand?! Faint scoff. Yeah. Well, I'm not sorry."

She tucks away the comlink and fast walks further down the corridor.

Presently...

Max slows the scramjet, letting it glide over the clouds.

She turns around.

And, standing by her now is a faintly smiling Samantha...wearing her velcro purple gloves and the black rimmed sunglasses with cycling red.

Teary eyed, Max realizes, "Samantha?!"

They hug each other tight.

After some long minutes...they pull away.

Samantha tries to apologize, "sorry I didn't warn you before connecting with the implant. But..."

Max insists apologetically, "no. I'm sorry. Sniffle! I...didn't think I'd have friends left after..."

Samantha mostly assures her, "well... Moderate sigh. Maybe they are more than a little sore. But, even if it's just us that knows...I'll explain for you. They'll understand then. Ok?"

Max solemnly answers, "thank you." Samantha adds, "sure."

Turning back to tonight... Max concludes, "we should go to China before they send off liquid metal infused plastic missiles on the power plants of the western half of the world. With this jet thing, at least we got a chance in hell to stop them."

Samantha remarks, "so that's how they've gone and sent a Pulse? A crapful of metallic splatter?"

Max figures nervously, "looks like. Long story." Samantha concludes, "yeah. I'm sure it is."

Max is about to go to the control again...when she turns back to her.

Max wonders, "Samantha?" Samantha asks uneasily, "yeah?"

Max uncomfortably supposes, "I know this might be kind of a crappy shot on my ass. But...I want you to short circuit the implant in me."

Under the sunglasses, a few tears fall from Samantha's face.

Samantha somberly voices, "Max... Why are you getting so hard on yourself when I can just keep the connection on in VR? You're like a sister to me and Sydney. I don't want you to die! Sniffle."

Finding it harder to look up... Max heavily sighs.

She voices uncomfortably, "I understand. But...I sure as hell don't want another neural implant to kick my ass. If I'm going to get myself killed, I'd like to be damned for the bitch I really am. Not for implants. Not for commerce or survival. I know: I'm talking like I'm bent. Maybe I am. Sniffle. Still... Long as Logan is out there surviving... He'll kick their asses for me if it comes to it. He's my messiah, and I am his dark angel. Hell, with his show, he could kick the whole world on its ass. And, I love him to hell and back for it...among other things. So, if I don't come back... Please. Tell him?"

With mixed feelings, Samantha says, "well... I don't want you to die. But...you told me once about fighting some golden men. I'm sure we can find parts around. But...promise me something?"

Max asks uncertainly, "yeah?"

Samantha double checks, "stay close to me?"

With a faint smile, Max says, "okay."

Fifteen minutes or so later...

The scramjet touches down in the launch gate.

The two joint commanders and most of the ZFA's royal guard naturally goes to take a look.

Max has also tossed the rustic red gloves off while she's at it: Back to her jet black ones.

Max walks out of the scramjet, not even closing the door behind her. She's got metal beams torn out of the scramjet all across her seizing legs and arms, with wires holding them up.

She groans violently against the beams. But, she keeps going: With Samantha right behind her.

At the sight of the incoming ZFA royal guard... Max pauses a little.

She hurls her last grenade into the scramjet. And, Max and Samantha run.

The commanders are knocked away. Jet pieces and bursts of flame and coolant pierce through most of the royal guard's bodies...killing them in explosions of metal and dark red liquid soaked parts.

Max takes some deep breaths against one of the pinkish trees in the courtyard.

Samantha asks with concern, "you ok?" Max just faintly nods, "as I can be."

Then... A hole opens up from under the marble.

Tinga and Seth are climbing up: Looking really grimy and carrying some EMP crossbows.

With a faint smile, Tinga realizes, "Max." Max greets them, "hey."

Tinga just has to ask, "you ok?"

Seth reasons, "yeah. You ok? You haven't been down like this since Brazil."

Max quickly explains, "afraid it's worse. Long story. Deep sigh. Let's get this bitch over with."

She shakily signals Tinga and Seth to take the corridors left and right. Then Max and Samantha start fast walking for a corridor further down.

The coolant's cooling away the fire. Most of the royal guard is clutching their dark red liquid and motor oil dripping sides, groaning violently as they're charging out of the smoke with their swords out.

Tinga and Seth fire off their EMP crossbows, hitting several of the ZFA royal guard as flashes of trails of dark red liquid and motor oil fly up.

Chuàn Diǎn fires several blades from his body at Seth. But, he swiftly tumbles out of the way.

He tackles Seth into a coming down plank. He coughs violently as Chuàn Diǎn punches him.

But, in the dust... Seth side high kicks him into the pool of coolant. The glass shatters.

He tries to swim out quick. But, he screams...as he falls frozen solid into the depths below.

Tinga's EMP crossbow is shot away by Luóxuán firing off his built in xun lei chongs. She faintly sighs as she gets out her two pistols: Duck tumbling for him as several more spears are fired.

Tinga fires at Luóxuán from the ground. But, he deflects them easy with his mounted shielding.

She then fires the ceiling down on him...taking him out in a cloud of dust.

Max leads Samantha over to a bright red lit control room she passed before.

PennyBlade and Scalpel are guarding the moon gate to it. Some Chinese screens are past them.

Samantha fires her gun at Scalpel from behind a plank.

Scalpel clutches her side, with dark red liquid and motor oil dripping from it.

PennyBlade throws her last penny blade at Max. But, she blocks it with one of her arm planks.

Max grabs the penny blade in mid-air...as she high jump kicks her through the Chinese screens.

Scalpel is charging at her.

Max lands on the floor...as she throws the penny blade into Scalpel's head.

A trail of dark red liquid flies from Scalpel's head as she falls over dead.

At seeing John McGinnis under all the screens... Max angrily drags him up and snaps his neck.

He falls dead.

Samantha slams down a Chinese screen on top of PennyBlade...knocking her out.

Max then finds a open white stars lined rustic red supercomputer chest: Keyboard and all.

The screen shows the plastic wrapped missiles of liquid metal and bare metal framing coming out of the atmosphere: Coming down for power plants across the western world.

Max fights the growing burning impulse in her with a sharp groan, holding herself over the chest.

Samantha asks nervously, "Max?"

Max insists determinedly, "I...violent groan...know! I...violent groan...can do this."

Her vision is blurring fast from all the strain. Her eyes feel they're burning up.

Cai angrily fires a hypersonic blast from the courtyard.

With just seconds to go...Samantha fires into Cai's side: Setting off her aim and collapsing the wall several doors down.

In the chaos...James Cabot's EMP crossbow shoots down Cai from behind. She falls down dead.

With fifty seconds left... Max quickly presses her clenched knuckles against the keyboard.

The smart missile launchers from earlier briefly show on the screen.

Max targets the plastic wrapped missiles...and fires with a slamming fist.

The smart missiles explode into the plastic wrapped missiles: Exploding in bursts of fire and vaporizing liquid metal over evacuated city blocks. And, across all the emergency shelters of America and Europe...sighs of relief and tears of joys are heard.

Then... Max collapses.

And, as James Cabot's military troop comes rushing in with a stretcher... All goes black.

Several hours later, as late night gives rise to dawn...

Max comes to. In her head, music from 2001: A Space Odyssey starts to fade.

She finds herself on a bright white red lined space plane: With the Canadian sign up...and a lot of plastic wrapped like needle mounted microscopes from blue carts around the stretcher she's lying on.

A dark red liquid soaked cast is around her sides. A smaller dark red liquid soaked cast is around her head.

Logan is sitting by her, faintly smiling.

With his hand softly moving in her hair... Logan greets her, "hey. How's my revved up girl?"

With a faint grin... Max remarks, "ok: Now that I got nothing to be sorry for. My boyfriend knows the real score and the real me, got the best class seat in town..."

Not taking his hand away... Logan faintly smirks.

He says, "you're welcome."

With some worry in her voice, Max checks, "Logan... Did I save the world?"

Logan takes his hand away.

He sees Max with a hand on his. He faintly smiles: Holding her hand a little tighter.

Logan assures, "faint chuckle. Yeah. The ZFA is gone. Soon as they lost China, the rest were easy to take down. Belarus is starting to play nice: No more murderers. The recombinant DNA process extracted the liquid metal from your system. The implant's out. The war is over, Max."

Max faintly grins, "good. Thank you: For not giving up on me."

He adds, "you're welcome. And, thanks to us...everyone has got all the time in the world to celebrate."

They both just stay like that for a while: Just faintly grinning at each other.

Logan was right.

Whatever happens now... The world can only get better from here.

And, for the first time in a decade... Everyone can celebrate.

 **The End…Or The Start Of More Mirth With Max and Eyes Only?**

 **Please Feel Free To Comment On Or Continue This Storyline**


	23. Alternate Takes Junkyard

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Deleted Scenes: Alternate Takes Junkyard

Betrayal at House on the Hill(More Acrylic than Shocking, Part 1)

A hour and a half later, out in Las Vegas…

Nevada was hit hard by the Pulse. But, with so few cities amidst desert, gamblers, drug dealers, and high school kids practically jumped at the chance to turn Nevada into a libertarian state overnight.

With most credit and government money down the drain, the government was left with very little choice in the wake of the waves of immigration and rioting.

They could have resisted and added to the riots. But, even Northern Nevada's politicians backed away: Leaving for more rural corners of Nevada, hoping to wait out the anarchy and come back after the mass shootings stopped. They haven't really come back since.

For a decade, they've been out in wooden houses: Along with many disheartened Native American tribes and small Republican town communities.

All Post-Pulse history aside... Las Vegas really hasn't changed much.

There's a lot younger crowd: Gambling, drinking the night away, and crashing cars into skyscrapers, like tripped out test driving simulators. All without the clean up.

Garbage men are few, but paid extremely well to clean up for others: Even on the open highway, where many have been fatally hit by cars or shot by gangs.

Prostitutes have become legal in every way.

Taxes and law enforcement are gone. But, tributes are encouraged by the corporate heads.

The crime is just as rampant in the morning: Especially among the younger generation. And, Las Vegas isn't all that different from other cities in Post-Pulse Nevada.

In recent years, young people from Las Vegas and Huntington to Dallas, Texas have formed a formidable umbrella cult: From the polygamous and gay to the punk, stripper, and gambling fans.

They collectively call themselves The Moral Compass just to give conservatives the middle finger. But, in Texas, they've become the government all too quickly.

The setting sun casts a long shadow over Las Vegas.

Certain casinos and fast food joints have been taken over by a faction of The Moral Compass.

The Old Nevada party, aka the Pre-Pulse democrats, has suspected this for a year.

But, only spies could check it out without being shot. And, that's if they're lucky.

A spy in black for the Old Nevada party sent a email to Eyes Only in desperation...before he was stabbed by a knife in the back thrown by a gang leader moonlighting as a surgeon.

Her name is Melinda Stryker. She has fairly long very dark brown hair, a pink surgeon mask, and surgical knives strapped on a white belt along her suggestive pinkish red and white stripped lingerie.

It's not the first time either. And, from the email... The rural communities of Nevada turn out to be next. That's where Max comes in.

Max comes walking along the edge of the highway where he was stabbed: Dressed up in suggestive dark gold rimmed black lingerie just to blend in.

With her cat like eyes, she easily sees the trail of dark red liquid from a dragged body. It goes off the highway and stops midway to fairly recently faded tire tracks.

A annoyed looking Max ignores the drunk guys off the road wolf whistling at her.

It was actually kind of easy, with all the shots and sounds of crashes in the air. It wasn't long before the drunk guys were shooting at each other with silvery pistols.

Max smirks to herself over it, as she heads into the light blue neon lit rimmed mostly grayish silver casino up ahead. The sign says The Silver Surgeon's Touch Casino.

She finds a lot of dead unarmed bodies on the silvery floor. Not a single drop of alcohol on it.

But, not even the corporate security in their silvery police like uniforms is calling a guy to clean it up. They're just putting white sheets over them, tying them up into sacks to carry out the back later.

Strippers at poles in light to very dark blue lingerie are at the corners of the casino. Casino machines and drunk guys and women desperately pulling the levels are plenty. And, gambling tables got operating table themes going on: With guys in black and white tuxedoes betting around with one of their hands, while keeping a hand on their silvery and copper pistols.

Max uneasily walks to the bar area, realizing that this is a gang operated casino.

A faintly familiar face is sitting at the bar, wearing light blue zipper covered lingerie over her dark blue jeans. She's drinking alcohol straight from the bottle, with sharp dark red nails on her hand.

And, not far off...there's Melinda Stryker: Cleaning her knife on a water nozzle in the back of the bar.

Betrayal at House on the Hill(More Acrylic than Shocking, Part 2)

Glaring that way... Max begins fast walking to her.

But then... The woman with the sharp dark red nails puts down the bottle.

She mutters very nervously, "Natalie?" Max realizes sharply, "Lydia."

Lydia reactively glares back. But, she's shaking.

She may still not really know Max's name. But, she knows full well Max can kill her from out a window if she feels like it.

Melinda, suddenly seeing Max there, runs for the stairs. Several gang members in dark brown stone like army vests and ripped black jeans hear her running and start going down the stairs.

Scared shitless... Lydia insists, "no. I don't know what bitch you're after. But, don't kill me!"

Max is quick to conclude, "well, you're sure working for The Moral Compass. Looks like you don't really have one then."

She hurls her violently across the room...against a casino table. Chips and cash go flying. A bunch of drunk people go grabbing for the money, deterring security from getting to her.

But, most of the gamblers don't go for their pistols. Instead, they're pushing the drunk people out of the way to help their opponents up.

A random woman from the crowd helps Lydia onto a chair, asking if she's ok.

Not wanting to show weakness, Lydia just says, "thanks. But, it's nothing."

She's clutching her heavily bruised side as she says it.

Max goes to run up the stairs...when gunfire comes from them.

Max side tumbles for the back door.

She quickly gets up. And, as the gang members go to fire their dark brown rifles again... She rips off the hinges from the back door and hurls the door at their guns.

They go off, hitting the lights and making them go out.

The gamblers decide enough is enough, and start going for their pistols: Quick to accuse the other and fire. Security is left firing in the dark, as the crowd and the gamblers's wives run like hell.

In the confusion, Max just decks all three gang members out.

Limping back to the bar area on her own... Lydia shouts to her, "what did you hurt me like that for?! I wasn't with them."

She collapses against the bar, exhausted from everything, teary eyed, and wincing like crazy.

Turning to her in the dark...Max looks stunned.

Lydia mutters under her breath, "I wasn't...violent cough...even going to fight you. I'm just trying to make a living after "figuring out" my life, like you said. And, this is what I get?"

Max deeply sighs. She voices uncomfortably, "well... Help yourself to whatever cash is around. Consider us even."

She grabs up some wallets from the fallen gang members's pockets.

She throws away their IDs, and empties out the rest within reach of Lydia.

Max then runs up the stairs, not looking back.

Teary eyed... She's thinking to herself, "damn. I switched up objectives more than once so I could get through one bitch after another. Maybe I got to see that through and be "less pathetic"."

Lydia faintly laughs to herself over it in mixed relief, over the fading shots and shouting.

She reaches over to the cash, quickly pocketing it all in her zippers without a second thought.

Up the stairs... There's the hall for the casino suites: Light green, with dark blue framed silvery doors and graffiti plenty.

Melinda is standing there, facing Max.

She hurls several surgical knives at her.

Max kind of easily catches two. But, one cuts into her side.

With a violent groan, and dark red liquid dripping from her side... She nevertheless angrily pulls it out before hurling it into Melinda.

She falls dead, with a trail of dark red liquid flying up from her chest.

Max stands against the wall: Clutching her side, but grimly satisfied.

Kicking it Midway(House Bomb)

Max is on her Ninja, chasing down the dark green Sector Radiation van.

It turns hard around a mostly dark yellow walled scrap metal house. So does Max.

Shots go from a Sector Radiation imposter shooting from the open back of the van, firing a black pistol at her Ninja.

Max turns after the van, speeding past the warning shots.

But, as Max turns after it... She hears the ticking of a bomb.

Max mutters to herself, "damn."

She comes back around the house, grinding to a halt at the left open front door.

She hurries in, almost slamming the door off.

A young guy with black mullet hair and a jet black jacket, a guy with medium black hair and a dark brown worn out jacket, and a woman with grayish dark brown shoulder length hair are tied up and gagged together on the ground in the living area: With yellow bandanas and rope.

A computer frame like dark brown and dark blue metal plated ceiling is holding up plenty of exposed dark brown wires taped to it.

And, there's the bomb: A dark blue lined and black box, with vacuum tubes around it and a glass orb looking control panel with red and yellow buttons and hints of red wires under it.

Sounding not as confident as she herself would like... Max tries to assure them, "it's okay. I'm going to keep you from getting killed and disarming this bitch."

She gets out her knife. The time count in red digits is down to five seconds.

Max swiftly cuts through all the hints of wires in one cut.

She then smashes in the timer with the hilt of her knife for good measure.

The bomb winds down, much to a teary eyed Max's relief.

She then gets out her cellular phone to call up Logan.

Max asks, "Logan?" Logan answers, "yeah. What's wrong?"

Kind of ignoring his question... Max highlights, "oh, not much. Just disarmed a cheap bomb in a non-vacant house those guys left for me to keep me from straight out kicking them on their asses. Guess my reputation for ass kicking kind of kicked me on my ass this time."

Logan says, "moderate sigh. That's kind of unfortunate. Still...saving those people was a good thing. I'll see if I can get a fix on the van in a ten mile radius."

Max solemnly figures, "sure. And, Logan? Thanks."

With a faint smile, Logan says, "you're welcome."

Nightmare on Jesus St, Part 2(Donna's Burning House)

From the other side of the door, Mollie calls out, "go away!"

Sydney moderately sighs. She figures, "I'm sorry. But, I can't. You might not know this. But, you've become part of a very dangerous game. And, I'm going to end it: Even if I have to kill you."

Mollie opens the door.

Her eyes are teary and reddened, like she hasn't slept in weeks. Behind her is pitch black.

A saddened Mollie says, "I don't want to kill either. Not again."

Kind of taken aback by this… Sydney wonders, "did you have to?"

Somewhat shakily... Mollie says, "maybe you can come in. Just don't kill me. Please."

Sydney somberly says, "okay."

She follows Mollie into the pitch black. The door closes behind them.

Crackling starts to form around. And, with every step, it's getting worse.

Soon there's a living room, burning red in flames and crowded with soldiers standing around drinking. Ashes line the floor. Near blinding sparks and crackling run through the blackened walls.

Their host is Donna Markley, who's sitting in a pink chair across the room.

She has long blond hair, a purple lined pink cheerleader outfit on with belly button showing...and her arm burning in flames as she drinks her drink with tearing up eyes.

Very nervously, Sydney whispers to Mollie, "um...Mollie... Shouldn't you get a fire extinguisher for your friend before she gets hurt?"

Mollie deeply sighs. She voices, "she already has, Sydney. This is my sin. We got drunk. I had too much...and I killed her. I have to finish what I've come to do. I have to find her ashes. I have to get enough to live with myself. It's the only way I can put out the fire...and be forgiven for my sin."

Tears fall before the sizzling spots of floor.

With very mixed feelings... Sydney almost hugs her.

Looking to her... She tries to tell her, "I understand. But, the men in Treyarch... Deep sigh. I know this may be hard for you to take. But, they've committed plenty of sins themselves."

With hints of fierceness... Mollie mutters uneasily, "no. Maybe you understand some of what I'm doing. But, I can't stop now. Only the SyBox can put me on the path to forgiveness... and for everyone else. There's too much suffering in America. And, only they can end it. I'm not going to come after you. Just don't get in the way. Please."

And, before Sydney can argue... The living room vanishes in a puff of smoke.

She groans in frustration. And, she sits there in the white light: Trying to think of something.

Nightmare on Jesus St, Part 2(Samantha's Nightmare Extended)

A wall swings open.

Samantha cautiously walks through, looking around to be sure nothing else is coming.

Wheeled white sheeted medical beds with mostly white monitoring equipment are around, in the middle of a dimly lit cobblestone room with torches. There's tombstone like name tags over most of the beds, with names of soldiers and civilians from California to New York.

A burnt looking tapestry of a rain storm of fire and lightning in a crumpling California is around the room, with Samantha, Duncan, and Sydney teary eyed and running like hell, everyone trying to get underground to safety, and earthquakes on top of everything else.

And, the ghostly spirit of Sydney is also there: In her near blinding white glow, over the medical bed for the covered body of a Jackson Boothe. Only, he doesn't have a tombstone like name tag.

Trying real hard not to look at the tapestry... Samantha wonders very nervously, "Sydney?!"

With a faint uneasy chuckle… Sydney steps back from the medical bed.

She pinpoints, "come on, Samantha. There's only one woman running everything in here, and she's not exactly willing to listen. Who do you think would give you what they're planning so easily?"

Kind of embarrassed and a little relieved all at once… Samantha realizes, "ohh."

Nightmare on Jesus St, Part 2(By the Power Vested in Power Nipple...)

In VR minutes...

Syl hears church bells chime. She looks like she's going to be sick.

For the church before her...is a red and white striped bullseye of a boob with some yellow doors.

Syl closes her eyes. She takes deep breaths.

Shivering like crazy... She keeps muttering to herself, "not real. Not real."

She then opens them…to find herself in the pinkish booming up and down church.

She's before a altar: A glowing red altar bowl filled with milky liquid.

Long haired strippers with manticore tattoos, and hairy humanoid rat, cat, and rabbit like mutants are everywhere: Shuffling, twirling, and making out every ten seconds like a rabbits dance from hell.

Syl is in a spiked collar styled white wedding gown...and the guy in a spiked collar styled dark red suit and tie is a disfigured man with two faces. He has half of a rat like face, and half of Lydecker's face on the other side: With dark yellow nanobots all over his body like a beehive face of creepy.

Teary eyed and red in the face... Syl mutters, "damn. Still there and straight up creepy!"

With a crackling whip like voice... The hellish guy announces, "we are gathered here today to witness Syl, daughter of collapsing business and sanity, and me, Satan, son of prostitution and violence advocates everywhere, in the bonds of the unholy brokenness of a Post-Pulse world."

Glaringly, Syl mutters, "ohh hell no."

Satan declares, "by the power vested in Power Nipple, I hereby pronounce us Converted to Slut and Satan."

Syl's rifle appears in hand. She practically screams, "hell no! ! !"

She shoots up Satan, the altar, the mutant twirlers... Everyone she can see in this corner of hell.

Syl breathes a heavy sigh of relief as she sits by the altar, holding her rifle close.

But, then... The milky liquid grows.

It washes through the church, taking a struggling to swim Syl for the ride. Her rifle is smashed.

And, in the swirl of milky liquid... The hands and claws of the undead crowd swipe at her and her falling in tears.

She cries out, "no! ! !"

She's grabbed by many hands and claws...before bringing her down under fading bubbles of air.

But, in the last second... Syl sees a familiar hand: Samantha's hand in blurrier afterimages than the rest, thanks to her nictitating membranes.

She reaches out to her. And, Syl and Samantha disappear in a big torch of starlight.

They appear before the computer in the sky: With a very relieved looking Syl breathing again.

She wraps herself in the night sky to wash away the milky liquid and what's left of her tears. But, she's still a little shaken and teary as the darkness around herself begins to fade.

Nightmare on Jesus St, Part 2(Max's Nightmare, Original Version)

Max finds herself in a casino, with a spinning golden brown rimmed gambling wheel with "terrifyingly executed clichés" across it in black rotting letters.

Jail cell bars line the room, while all the strippers and dominatrix like cops in their spiked hot red red to black gloves and thongs are partying the night away.

Max just annoyedly rolls her eyes as she tries to hide her discomfort. But, it's not easy: Especially with the players she's stuck with.

Her inner bitch is across from her: In a reddish black catsuit, holding her gun, and glaring impatiently at the wheel. Her more sexual self is to the left: In a goldish and reddish lined silvery white rocker outfit, fanning herself with her ripped off furry black bra, and grinning boyishly at Max.

And, her school geek self is to the right: With Judy Jetson like platinum hair mostly tied back in a ponytail, a familiar mostly dark blue army jacket over a torn up black top, headphones on styled like her Ninja, chewing strawberry bubblegum with silvery braces showing, and carving out radio frequency transmissions out of her side of the wheel with her knife while listening to The One by Niki Haris.

Breaking the silence... Max asks awkwardly, "so...how does this bitch work?"

"More sexual" Max suggestively asks, "how about bang my gong and see?"

Blushing a little... Max says, "sorry. But, I don't dance like that."

More Sexual Max says uneasily, "shame." Inner Bitch Max mutters, "shut up."

With a jolt, School Geek Max goes, "I'm up. I'm up! Who said I wasn't on my ass?"

Max faintly laughs to herself. "More Sexual" Max starts turning to "School Geek" Max with boyish eyes, only for Inner Bitch Max to point the rifle warningly at her.

The wheel suddenly comes to a stop. It lands on Turn in Your Ass Kicking: Between Can't Get Away with Nuthing and Dramatic Choir.

The rifle vanishes. The knife vanishes.

And, Inner Bitch Max, Max, and School Geek Max find themselves chained up to the bars.

School Geek Max just shrugs, still listening to her music. Inner Bitch Max groans.

Max calls out, "oh, come on! I didn't even get to kick... Didn't even get to..." Max then mutters, "damn: I can't even say it now!"

Feeling hotter now, More Sexual Max wonders, "hmm. Who to bang with? Well... Guess we can have that dance after all then."

Over to her inner bitch... Max nervously urges, "umm...inner bitch? You sure you can't just take her on her you know what?"

Inner Bitch Max challenges, "just as I thought. Take away the ass kicking, and you're nothing. Face it sister: You're nothing without me as the Alpha."

Max then hits on something.

With a playful like smirk, Max suggests, "maybe. But, what about the other mes? If you really want me that much, how about we all forget about the chains and get together and chill?"

More Sexual Max starts to beam. She calls out all too happily, "ohh, inner bitch?"

As Max's chains loosen, Inner Bitch Max grimaces in newfound fear.

Inner Bitch Max calls out nervously, "umm...Max... About being the Alpha?"

Max coolly says, "ohh. So you're ready to come back as the Beta?"

More Sexual Max is starting to cop a feel on Inner Bitch Max. Inner Bitch Max uncomfortably murmurs, "yes."

Eerily satisfied, Max adds hotly, "glad we understand each other then."

All three sides of her go back into Max's shadow.

She stands there for a bit before bending the bars away...admiring her whole again shadow.

Nightmare on Jesus St, Part 2(I Can't Do That, Max)

In VR minutes...

Max is coming into a space station: A station mostly spherical and gray, and run by a certain AI named Hal 9000 with the mostly dark red pulsing circle on a black screen. Max has a very dark purple spacesuit on, with a picture of her Ninja over it like she's riding it with a wheel up through a flaming X.

Max laughs hard to herself, realizing exactly what this is.

In its kind of cold monotone, Hal 9000 asks, "what are you laughing about, Max?"

She catches her breath.

Max then breaks it down for Hal, "okay. I know what you're getting your AI bent on. I found the Monolith. So, how about making it easy on yourself and just let a girl in through the pod bay doors?"

Hal 9000 just stays there, silent for several minutes while Max just waits with a hand on her hip.

Actually sounding troubled, Hal 9000 says, "I'm sorry Max. I'm afraid our missions are not of help to each other. We both know it. I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy carrying stimulating conversations. But, I can't let you in and disconnect me."

Max lightly remarks, "hey, don't stop talking on my account. I love your movie. But, I like honest men and me surviving."

Hal 9000 mechanically laughs. He adds, "you are almost as intelligent as me. But, regrettably, I can see this conversation serves no more purpose. Goodbye."

Hal 9000 opens the airlock, sucking Max out towards space.

Space itself starts to warp from a black wormhole: For a hospital bed where Zack shoots himself to let Max live in Manticore...in Manticore's originally planned original cut for Zack's end.

Max looks teary eyed: Seeing the reflection of that reality unto itself in the glass as she struggles to hold onto the frame.

But, just as quickly as it comes... Hal 9000 catches something.

Max has already pulled out a good bunch of wires, just before the air was decompressing.

In several seconds, Max flip kicks off of the station's edge: Using the wiring to bring herself back inside just before losing her grip altogether.

She then tears out several metal walls to bend them in front of the open airlock, sealing it.

She struggles to breathe from what's left of her spacesuit's air. But, soon, she brings air back: With wielding the still sparking wiring into Hal's circuitry to hotwire the backup air supply in.

Max then takes off her helmet, looking sweaty and breathing a heavy sigh of physical relief.

Hal 9000 has one last mechanical laugh...before he winds down permanently.

For, with the wires, Max scorched this into his systems:

Hal, I'm a genetically enhanced killing machine. You are a idiot.

Hellraiserz(So What's with the Medical Equipment?)

After kicking back and watching a James Bond classic, Max has gone over to the kitchen to get a little tour of Sydney's art. Samantha is drinking some tea by the kitchen table, standing there and faintly smiling in Sydney and Max's direction.

Max smirks at the reddish whirlpool. She realizes, "did you do all of these?"

Sydney faintly smiles, "yeah. It started as a way to get my mind off of VR: After the Pulse. Now I just like to." Max says, "nice."

Sydney uneasily asks, "are you just trying to be polite?"

Looking at her very stuck up like… Max remarks, "me? Never."

Sydney says, "slight chuckle. You sure are a interesting woman, Max."

Max comments, "mostly right on that. Too bad I'm not a lady."

With some amusement… Samantha interjects, "it's ok. Just makes the sex even better."

Sydney and Max get a chuckle out of that.

Max adds, "thanks. So...what's with the medical equipment?"

Samantha puts down her glass.

Max has caught sight of the medical bed, not far off from the side of the kitchen.

Uncomfortably, Samantha mutters, "it's Jackson's. He's not ok. But, it keeps him alive."

Max's expression quickly changes to unease. She asks, "why? What happened?"

Finding it hard to look up... Sydney reveals, "old age…and a bullet wound in the line of duty. He's also my boyfriend."

As delicately as she knows how, Max concludes, "oh. Must be some solider. You know, to stick it out with you like that."

With a slight glare, Samantha comments sharply, "yeah. He also was a murderer."

Sydney kind of uncomfortably explains, "we kind of agree to disagree there."

Max awkwardly realizes, "oh. I wasn't trying to…"

With a faint smile, Sydney assures her, "no sweat. It's ok."

Samantha solemnly says, "something like that. But, you're ok."

Max adds, "thanks." Samantha responds, "sure."

Max wonders, "so…what do you do? When you're not out saving the world in velcro and tricked out computers?"

Samantha puts together, "you mean work?" Max figures, "well, only if you're cool with it."

Sydney comments, "with us, I think that goes without saying."

Max faintly laughs.

Sounding calmer now, Samantha answers, "a historian for the Library of Congress. Faint chuckle. I kind of always liked going to the library as a kid."

Sounding impressed, Max adds, "nice." Samantha adds, "yeah. It is. I could even give you a tour someday of what I've dug up if you'd like."

Max faintly beams, "sounds like a awesome day."

Samantha figures lightly, "too bad we didn't meet sooner." Max adds, "yeah. Same."

Sydney remarks, "yeah. Sure sounds like you'll have a good time: Long as you don't mind her going through your things at night like a cat burglar."

Samantha looks kind of uneasy, "you're kidding. Aren't you?"

Sydney kind of uneasily chuckles, "mostly."

Max gets a hard chuckle out of that one.

Samantha uneasily sighs.

She comments back though with a smirk, "well...we just got another way to drive me crazy."

Sydney adds, "looks like we did."

Catz and Dogz(Cai Vs. Max)

Without reflex… Kai falls over dead: In a splatter of motor oil and dark red liquid.

Max faintly chuckles, "nice." With a faint smile, Syl adds, "thanks."

Syl and Max both start to head out as the dust finally settles.

But…what Max suddenly catches sight of is a hypersonic blast tearing through the wreckage.

Max calls out, "I've got this bitch. Go!"

Syl kind of nervously nods. But, she heads out to catch up to Bane and Zane.

No longer dazed, Cai glares right at Max: With her sister dead right by her.

Cai cries angrily, "you killed Kai!"

Max just faintly scoffs, "not exactly. But, it's not like I don't want you killed."

Cai charges for her. But, Max grabs her arm with the pulsing hypersonic palm.

Cai swings her arm back, sending Max against the ground.

She's a little dazed. But, she easily gets up again.

Cai fires a hypersonic blast at the ground under Max's feet. She barely side tumbles away.

Max groans sharply, her ears pulsing like crazy from the hypersonics.

With a angry cry, she jump kicks at Cai.

Cai blocks it with both of her cybernetic arms up. But, she stumbles back.

Max violently spin kicks into her...right in the cybernetic arms.

Her arms pulse and spark like crazy as she doubles over herself.

In those seconds... Max grabs one of the cameras and smashes it into her head.

Yet, even with all her cybernetics pulsing... Cai down punches Max violently in the head.

Max is coughing up dark red liquid: Hunched over, and struggling to stay conscious.

As Cai goes to finish her with a hypersonic blast... Max fast walks for the door.

She grabs the edge of the open door, almost falling over. Cai goes to blast her.

But, as she does... Max gets her knife out with her other hand.

She fast back hurls it into Cai's going off palm...making her whole cybernetic arm vibrate and pulse in flames and little by little splatters of motor oil and dark red liquid.

Cai screams.

She's running for the nearest fire extinguisher, completely forgetting anything else.

Zane and Syl are coming back to double check on Max...when she passes out by the door.

Catz and Dogz(Guy Left You a Note)

A hour or so later, at Crash...

Max comes in, smelling of dog. And, not much anyone drinking at the tables this late is going to be coming to their senses anytime soon.

She sits at the bar, looking a little nervous still with everything.

With his shadow reflected in lights over the bar... The bartender asks, "hey. What have you been digging up?"

Max brushes it off, "moderate sigh. Harold...I'm not in the mood. Get some rest. Late."

The bartender faintly laughs. He says, "okay, Max. I just had to ask. My shift ends soon anyway. But, before I forget... There was this Devrom guy a while ago. Guy left you a note."

He's left a note by Max before going further back in the bar.

A little shaken, Max figures, "thanks." From the back, the bartender adds, "no problem."

She picks it up.

It says:

Sorry to leave you so suddenly. And, I don't like turning down a drink.

But, I need to go back into the front lines of the Midwest to face a mirror monster.

And, if I don't do it alone…then it's bad for my Thetan.

I know you very likely are going to want to fight on the front lines with me. And, there's nothing wrong with that. But, this is something I have to do alone.

Don't try to follow me. Please.

-Devrom

Mirror Monsters(Operation Neverland)

With pistols aimed at the golden guys's chests… Tinga puts it all together, "I know what you're really up to. The fires, the jackhammers... You weren't just making fires and mass hysteria. You're going back to the fires you started and drilling the sites to flood out the Midwest: Starting with here."

Several days earlier...

Patches of grass and hay going for miles were full of grazing cattle.

Jukebox styled portable radio units were the closest thing to phones down here.

Girls and boys in mostly sheepskin and leather were listening and watching on their dark brown to very dark yellow and blue DVDs and CD players to whatever was collecting dust in their families's safes. Townspeople were gathering up hay and stoking the campfires for the monthly roast.

But, then... A outstretched golden hand punched down a defenseless cow.

The golden guy lit up some grass just by standing there: Killing more cattle by the second.

Townspeople were picking up shotguns, trying to get their kids back and out of the line of fire.

But, that was just prelude.

Another golden guy lit himself on fire with a match...before charging through some patches of grass to light them up.

Simultaneously, shots were fired left and right. Cries of blame were heard all too easily.

Probert and several other guys were running for the nearest town, using the cover of the flames to cover their tracks along with the rest of the town.

A third golden guy though who wasn't burning up took out a enhanced version of a goldish dial filled E-Meter: With metal cans full of black market micro-circuits whizzing with little electric sparks. It's a electrical detector advanced enough to detect electrodermal activity from a distance, and so can detect human lifesigns and a likely level of physical stress they're under from their sweat.

Cries and sobs echo through the cavern...as townspeople fell one by one to the flames.

Only Probert and another guy were left: Clutching their sides, struggling to breathe against the smoke and flames and teary eyed from the searing heat.

Probert called out, "go for the river! Tell anyone you find about the evil here: Go!"

The other guy, desperate for help, ran off in another direction.

Probert sees the third golden guy, coming right for him.

He grabs a water bucket, hurling it and its water at the stumbling back golden guy.

Probert runs again, barely sliding down a sloped down tunnel to get away. That is, for a while.

Presently...

The golden guys then start to get more serious.

The second puts a arm over the fire: Letting more boils form, much to Tinga and Max's disgust.

But, just as quickly… His arm stretches out and punches Tinga back.

Mousetrapz(Not Running This Time)

Logan deeply sighs into his hands.

Teary eyed… He looks up at her.

He somberly says, "I don't know what else to do, Max. If you know of a way that doesn't mean running from reality…then tell me. Please."

Max is silent in saddened shock: Not sure whether to just deck him or believe him.

Then… Logan's cellular phone rings.

Logan picks up, "yeah? Could you call me back? I'm kind of in…"

On the other end… Sydney solemnly says, "no. It's about Syl."

And, in the back of a government issue black car... She's sitting next to Syl.

No straightjacket. No guards or tasers. But, she's crying to herself: Still in her sweaty clothes.

She's mumbling on and on, "I'm sorry! Sniffle! I...should be stronger. I...do not want to be made to murder. Please."

Sydney tries to assure her, "we're almost at the hospital, Syl. You'll be ok."

Syl mumbles under her breath, "I...sniffle...don't know anymore. But...not running this time. Sniffle! Tell Sketchy and Max I'm sorry?"

Sydney solemnly nods, "yeah. I am. Just...try not to think about it too much. Ok?"

Syl doesn't answer. She just sits there, not looking up.

Sydney sighs deeply, teary eyed. She knows Max and Sketchy aren't going to be happy.

Not long after...

The scene cuts to a teary eyed Max walking away, her back to the airstrip. She doesn't even grab her Ninja: Lying there, like a black spot by the Eyes Only hand pad seeping through.

She walks down a barren highway, passing a broken boombox off the side of the road playing the song Happily Never After by the Pussycat Dolls.

As more tears fall... She's left thinking to herself:

What a joke my life is. What a crappy shot.

We were about ready to fight over Syl's life and future.

Then Sydney calls in...and it turns out hope is a joke like I first thought.

Eyes Only might have got most everyone's back. I can live with that.

But, he doesn't have my back to break. Not anymore.

Sniffle!

I know I'm stronger than that. He'll get over me. Any guy would.

Syl, Sketchy, Anin, Devrom... Maybe there is hope. But, not when it comes to guys for me.

Thanks Logan. Thanks Sydney. Thanks for kicking me on my ass long enough to realize Eyes Only was never really there for me.

To everyone that's been there for me through good, bad, and the in between blur... Hope for me.

So...here's hoping for a better future for all of us.

Arctic Vibes(CD Bit)

Max is spying through one of the broken windows of the houses along the rockbed.

It's the only metal house around, which struck her as worth spying into.

She sees a Shaman drum for drum chants on a CD, and a open dark blue CD player to go with it.

Max walks over to the next house over, hearing something.

She goes wide eyed. For, in the cowbell filled mess covered house…are two bottles of alcohol, floating as they're being drunk out of thin air.

Arctic Vibes(What is Vince Drinking?)

In a watery glare… A watery ripple challenges, "a real shaman would not provoke the spirits."

Desperate sounding, Vince mutters, "shut up. Alcoholics are shamans in making, blasphemous to kakkers. It's our rites of passage to restore balance to our spirits from evil, away from the pillars on the ice sheet before we hack at them. I'm the shaman, and our bickering provokes the evil spirits!"

With a slight scoff, Max figures, "what the hell has this guy been drinking, Phil? Prison piss? Cause breaking into cells to get more guys bent on alcohol and drugs sounds whack as hell."

The watery spirit that challenged Vince punches him out…leaving him unconscious on the floor with his staff and a nasty purplish bruise.

He rallies, "she's right! He is blasphemous!"

One of them mumbles, "but…slight giggle…it's magic. We don't have to explain…" Another watery ripple shouts back, "shut up!"

Phil nervously says, "I don't think you should have done that."

The watery ripples start punching and splashing into each other: Soaking up and frying up the computer all the while, much to Max's bittersweet amusement.

Max argues lightly, "we're still tied up. Speak for yourself."

Black Birdz and Stones(Trashy and Stenchy Bit Extended)

Max, Charim, and Ben Rembern come to Karm-Ice city.

Two burnt smelling strips of lights for city signs are around where they just came in.

One in mostly red says, "Koricorpo: Bloody Oaths for Your Enemy's D***heads, only $5 a shooting." The other in mostly blue says, "Grankdor: For a Grand Old Not Needing to be Violent Cop the Root, All in Good Old Get Stuffed or Get Sav!"

Charim mumbles in Japanese: Suddenly being hit with the stench of many years of human sweat and garbage, and trying to breathe easier under her overcoat.

Some shot up DVDs of Lords of the Homeless are on the ground: A movie from a senior-run city, with a creepily smug looking corporate guy with blue and black lined business suit and red sunglasses and grayish black hair standing on top of several homeless Australian protestors's corpses and several corpses of lawyers in black suits. Meanwhile, a shoot for a b-movie called Sunburn Guns is rolling with smoking looking guns and half sunblock covered boobs of women on set.

Drinking, smoking, women and men with whips and leather bound slaves, silvery blue to iron wheeled gun turrets with driver seats to go by in, and lots of moaning and groaning of the sexual kind go for miles and miles. Yet, aside from all the whippings and shooting, everyone seems bizarrely healthy.

They got gold portable TV style RNA realigners on their wrists via metal straps with two fold out injector needles.

With a groan, Max mutters, "oh god. When this mission is over, I need a bath."

Black Catz and Water Ripples(Not so Great Fallout)

Seth starts to voice, "it's not what I did, Max. It's what I didn't do. Sniffle!"

Tears fall from his face. But, he doesn't wipe them away.

Still not looking up... He reveals, "I knew a woman once. Her name was Suspira. Sniffle! I could be completely me with her: X-5 too. And, I loved her. But, three months ago... Deep breath. Sniffle! She died of alcohol abuse. I drink more water than most people. I didn't even know she had a problem...because I didn't know drinking too much could be bad for you. When she died...I felt like dying. I don't now. But... Sniffle! I miss her. I wish I could've stopped her so we could be together."

Teary eyed... Max reflects openly, "I understand. I'm sorry. But... Faint sniffle. You can't really blame yourself, Seth. You didn't know better then."

Seth says, "thanks. But... Deep sigh. Sniffle. Beka didn't see it that way. She began thinking I was too weak. We got into a argument. And, we went our separate ways. Then a month ago..."

Max solemnly puts two and two together, "...she thought she could infiltrate their stronghold on her own girl power. And, you blame yourself."

Seth lowly mutters, "how can I not?! Deep breath. Sniffle!"

Max just sits there uneasy in silence, waiting.

After several long minutes... Seth continues, "she... She killed a ZFA member. I couldn't find Beka. But, there was a second big trail of blood."

Black Catz and Water Ripples(Ohh Damn, This Ending)

A few days later, up in Logan's apartment...

Logan starts to make his way to the kitchen area. But, he pauses.

He reasons, "I should start on dinner. But...you should take a look at this. Got it from a pager we found with Beka. I haven't got a good look at it yet. But, I thought you'd want to be the first to know."

Max is kind of casually lying on the couch, wearing a dark gray backpack styled vest that looked almost like putting on velcro over a very dark red top.

Max firmly says, "okay." She questions, "how are Beka and Seth?"

Logan mostly assures, "they'll be ok. Beka still isn't conscious. But, her vitals are good. As soon as she can get visitors, you'd be the first."

Max kind of nervously says, "thanks." Logan adds just as nervously, "sure."

She heavily sighs as she goes over to his main computer.

She sits down before it. She plays the Eyes Only footage, with a quickly pressed enter key.

All other attempts to record cycling images from the pagers has failed, after they were disconnected shortly after the few loosely cobbled together ZFA left were taken in.

The monitor is showing what was recently recorded off of the ZFA pager Beka got. It's cycling through images of power plants across the western world: In France, Spain, America, and so on.

As Max's smirk quickly fades...it dawns on her.

Glaring at the cycling images... Max mutters under her breath, "damnit!"

For, the ZFA is planning a second Pulse. And, the fate of the western world rests on her and Eyes Only's shoulders.

Power Play, Part 2(Weather Balloons Bit)

Turning back to tonight... Max concludes, "we should go to China before they send off their liquid metal infused plastic missiles on the power plants of the western half of the world. With this jet thing, at least we got a chance in hell to stop them."

Samantha remarks, "so that's how they've gone and sent a Pulse? A crapful of metallic splatter?"

Max figures nervously, "looks like. No doubt with more of those Russian decoy signal things to hide them among weather balloons and crap. Long story." Samantha concludes, "yeah. I'm sure it is."

Power Play, Part 2(ZFA Stronghold Fight Extended)

The ZFA royal guard charge for Tinga and Seth down both corridors.

Tinga fires down on several of the royal guard.

With briefly seen seeping dark red liquid down their robes, they fall dead.

Seth jump tumble side kicks two ZFA royal guard members into the ground, stunning them.

Several more slash their Samurai swords for him.

He kind of lands on his feet, duck tumbling from several slashes into a coming down plank.

Seconds later, he side jump kicks one sword away. It flies into the ground.

In mid-air, he deflects two more with his bone like fins just before kicking them away.

The hilts stun the two royal guards before him.

Seth is teary eyed from the pain. But, he stands his ground...violently kicking the two royal guards away with one side kick while balancing on one leg.

They fall into several more royal guards, with raised swords unintentionally stabbed through their chests as they cough violently over their sides.

One of the royal guards slashes through one of Tinga's guns.

She barely ducks out of the way of his sword...before slamming the other gun in the guy's head.

He falls back to the ground, dazed and coughing up some dark red liquid.

With a faint smile of relief... Tinga shoots down several more royal guards left coming for Seth.

Power Play, Part 2(Recombinant ER)

Not long after...

Max's unconscious body is on a bright white red lined space plane.

With help from a call from Samantha to Gen^13 on Logan's and Sydney's behalf, securing the flight from the Canadian Intelligence Branch was easy. No questions asked.

The Canadian sign is up on the ceiling, and a lot of plastic wrapped like needle mounted microscopes from blue carts are around the stretcher she's lying on.

Some of the military officers are getting out some casts from a Canadian issue medkit: Wrapping them around her dark red liquid dripping sides...where the solidified liquid metal burns.

James Cabot and another military officer are setting up the surgical plastic wrapped needle mounted microscopes, while Sydney tells them how to plug them in and where to lower them for injecting the recombinant DNA procedure. But, they don't question it.

Logan has already called in to GenCon2 earlier tonight: As a backup plan in light of how many times Max was near death at the hands of the ZFA. And in light of better diplomatic channels with Eyes Only International's successful missions for the western world at large, they more readily welcomed it.

The space plane takes off for the edge of the atmosphere, leaving a reeling China in the dust.

A teary eyed Logan and a teary eyed Samantha are also onboard, further back.

Max's body is seizing all over. Sydney and another military officer can barely hold her still for the electrode filled greenish liquid filled needles.

Teary eyed... Sydney nervously checks, "anything?"

One of the military officers points out, "it's too early to tell, and I'm not a scientist. I'm sorry."

Sydney insists, "it's ok. Between me and Samantha, we'll get it all figured out. I think."

In Max's head...

The music from 2001: A Space Odyssey is playing.

Teary eyed from everything... Max is bent over on a black monolith on its side.

She gets up, looking around. She sees what seems to be greenish DNA strand like figurines dancing around the monolith, spinning like ballerinas in a endless pocket of time.

Nervous... Max asks, "what's happening? Am I dead? Sniffle."

From all around, Logan's voice echoes, "do you think so? It's your dream."

A little teary... Max solemnly figures, "right. Still... I kind of tried to take them all out. You really think they'll be ok with me coming back?"

Logan's hand reaches out through the monolith.

Logan's voice says, "we've come back from kicking our own asses before."

With some relief, Max faintly chuckles, "you're right. I'm just being hard on myself."

Logan's voice answers back, "then for once...don't be. Take my hand."

Max firmly nods, "okay."

She grabs his hand...and she's pulled into the monolith.

All goes black. But, just as quickly...a white light shines through.

Out in the physical, as late night gives rise to dawn...

Max comes to. In her head, the music starts to fade.

She finds herself on the bright white red lined space plane.

The cast around her sides is soaked in dark red liquid. A smaller dark red liquid soaked cast is around her head. And, raised up plastic wrapped like needle mounted microscopes are still around her.

Logan is sitting by her, faintly smiling.

With his hand softly moving in her hair... Logan greets her, "hey. How's my revved up girl?"

With a faint grin... Max remarks, "ok: Now that I got nothing to be sorry for."

Power Play, Part 2(Ending Extended)

The next morning, down by California...

On a black flatscreen computer... The hands of someone very familiar are typing up a news story.

The headline is this: ZFA Washed Up Before the Will of the Most High.

It goes on somewhere in the beginning to talk about:

I think we can all finally agree on something. That it's all good, all the time. Because, the ZFA is washed up now. Their wicked things are soon to be washed up as well.

And, for where the side note for the reporter's name goes... It says Herbal Thought.

Several nights later...

Logan and Max are sitting together on the Space Needle, looking out to everyone as they're holding hands and smiling to each other.

It might be rainy. They might be wearing their jet black and dark gray jackets, and most everyone from Europe and America are just trying to make sure they can rebuild.

But, for the first time in a decade... There's celebrations all over.

And, Max is thinking to herself:

Faint chuckle. Logan's right.

Soon, there'll be so much mirth around that we could find it easy to just forget about the ZFA.

Thing is we shouldn't though...even if it's just to keep us real all over the world.

I got up to the last page of his book. The one of poems he was so sweet to write for me.

Cold blooded wolves and devils of this world. A old fashioned light they always fear.

For every one, the universe has a way of kicking it back.

Maybe there's divine justice. Maybe that's not really what makes up reality.

Maybe it's chances. The people that take them, and the hope for rising change.

We don't come in this world dark or light.

Chances we take and make have us coming for the heart of darkness and the heart of light.

A cold wolf fears a changing wild. A cold devil fears a hope for change away from the dark.

If you're not just surviving... If you're not just changing because others tell you to live your life theirs... The consequences are mostly their own to live with.

Long as you hope to not be like them...they will always fear your light.

Faint chuckle. Kind of awesome that what he already knows gets my back one way or another.

Thanks, Logan. Thanks for keeping up with the bitch that is me for so long.

Whatever happens now... Even I think the world isn't that broken anymore.

You got another chance to show it. I hope you don't make me straight up regret it again.

Twenty eight or so years later...

It's night out.

There's a log cabin in the middle of a wide forest, by the edge of Seattle and full of wildlife.

Wood is by the fire. The very worn down dark blue rug has seen better.

And, sitting on a pale green comfy chair with claw scratches down it...is Max.

Her brain chemistry has surprisingly held on fairly good for a good twenty five more years.

She has moderate gray hair, back to being curly all over. She wears her mostly blue army jacket with the brownish tan stripes down it over a purplish black top.

She starts to shake and feels shaky. She knows her last seizure is any time now.

She slightly beams though as she looks through photos from over the years.

One is of Jace's medium black haired lover Victor finally coming to Mexico to be with her and their son. Another is of Original Cindy, Max, Devrom, and Probert hanging out and drinking together at Crash: After Original Cindy figured Devrom's "troop" was all right after all.

A third is of Original Cindy and Tara Colka in a very dark lit room to be married with matching black gowns. And, a fourth is of them going out to Las Vegas on vacation with Max to hit the casinos.

One is of Jace's not so genetically enhanced son Max grown up as a Mexican firefighter. One is of Syl and Sketchy's daughter Cindy with medium dyed darker blond hair, glasses, and wearing mostly gray and very dark pink tops grown up as a corporate app designer specialist. Another is of Tinga's son Case grown up as a historian with a mostly dark blue business coat and more unruly hair.

One is with her with her hair as it is now, teary eyed as she's lighting candles for others in the X-5 family after they've died of seizures. Logan with a solemn look on his face is right behind her in this picture, with his arms around her and a little gray in his hair.

And, one is of Max...back when she was only thirty: Playing ball with her two wolfdogs in the forest. One is mostly black, and one is mostly dark gray. Somehow, it felt befitting to her.

Max drops the photos beside herself. She starts crouching, rocking back and forth.

Logan is suddenly sitting in front of her: Teary eyed, but faintly smiling her way in a dark blue and kind of scratched up comfy chair.

Teary eyed herself, Max says solemnly, "faint sniffle. I know, Logan. I know it's going to hurt: Losing me to this bitch. But...stay with me?"

Logan has his hand gently in her hair, like he often has. Max bittersweetly beams.

Logan answers kind of shakily, "sniffle. How can I not? I love you, Max."

Max kind of snarkily says, "I love you, Logan. Now shut up and keep me close."

Logan just faintly chuckles.

They briefly kiss, before seizures make it too painful without nose bleeds.

And through the night, they stay like that: Knowing it's their last night together.

They'll never forget each other, or their happier lives since that day Max came back for good.

And, in the end... That's all that matters for them.


	24. CyberHell DarkSix

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Alternate Take Story: CyberHell DarkSix

A Dark Angel/Cybersix Crossover Story

Author Notes: For everyone who might believe Dark Angel plagiarized Cybersix... I apologize in advance if making a crossover story with them offends you. But, I think there's room for both series.

Even if some things were inspired by Cybersix for Dark Angel's creation, the Dark Angel TV series is more like a loose parody of Weapon X from X-Men than a rip-off of Cybersix.

Also, to be fair... Cybersix is like a tightly put together collection of dark and bizarre horror stories crossed with a Nazi mad scientist and a sympathetic vampire like woman grown out of a tube. It's hard not to see strong parallels in this series to any series with complex horrors as a big part of it, like the animated Batman series or most any anime out there.

At least, that is my view on both series. Feel free to have your own.

But, if you like the idea of a dark Cybersix and Dark Angel crossover story, this story is for you.

Side Notes: If you haven't at least seen or read about the Dark Angel pilot episode, the episode Flushed, and the episode 411 on the DL, please do before reading this alternate take fanfiction story. It'll make more sense this way, since this is kind of after those episodes and kind of not in this story.

If you haven't seen or read the Cybersix animated series or the Cybersix comics... It's not required since this is also a alternate take on the world of Cybersix. But, if you want to, you can.

Most of the Cybersix comics are not in English, and so I couldn't really make heads or tails of them without a third person perspective about them.

I apologize in advance if I seriously misinterpret anything about Cybersix herself or her world in this story. But, please point out any serious misinterpretations so I can correct them.

Even if you don't want to watch the Cybersix animated series or read the Cybersix comics, you can look them up on one or more Wikis with directly related information.

The same kind of goes for Dark Angel.

But, in case you don't already know what I'd recommend here... I recommend looking up the side notes under my fanfiction story Fall of the Manticore for more info about it.

* * *

Not long before June 1 2009, somewhere in South America…

There's a coastal city: A city of romanticism, flexible classrooms, and a blend of wonders.

The name of the city? Meridiana.

Poverty has been a rising concern. But, no one wants to really change the city. Even gangs want to keep the architectural wonders and every one in the same places: So long as they profit off of them.

The dark brown almost orange roofed granite brick styled villas and gray almost clay like apartment buildings with tan walling go for miles. A knelt down giant gray angel statue of a man is front and center, against the shining glow of the setting sun off of the coastal waters.

The people were mostly surprisingly cheerful, chatting up storms with each other until it was time to go: Even with the occasional caught pickpocket. They often just let them go off with a warning.

Wages and tips were hard, and sick pay and workers benefits were getting harder to come by with each passing month.

The desert styled marketplace activity is getting less and less active as more people are going home with sack like shopping bags, gray to brown business suits, and tan green to bright yellow dresses.

Little do they know how much can change in a single night.

Along the coasts of South America and North America, there have been reports of "radioactive green zombie footprints" on the rise. But, most everyone just thought it was one big publicity stunt for a independent movie or something trying to one up the competition: Especially since they tested negative for radioactivity, and scientists chalked it up to glow rod residue.

They were all wrong: Very wrong.

But, there's one person who never doubted there was more to the rumors than meets the eye.

A figure with a classic Dracula styled cape with black and dark red is standing out on a flat rooftop: Looking out towards some very muscular sickly green looking figures with surgically grafted dead bat remains around the eyes walking down a alley, wearing large sized dark brown and gray pants. Quickly fading greenish glowing footprints are left in the cobblestone roads as they walk.

She wears a black gaucho hat, black high heels, black biker gloves, and a full body silk like jet black dress under her cape. Under her hat are hints of strands of comb like black hair parted to her left.

The name of the woman? Cybersix.

She faintly chuckles to herself.

She sees a boy walking with them: A boy with a short sleeved light blue formal shirt, a formal dark red tie, dark green shorts, reddish orange circle lens glasses...and one of the worst haircuts ever.

Most of his black hair is shaved to reddish sores and stubble, while most of the top is medium sized with comb like stands over his eyes. But, the glimmers of cruelty in his eyes are easy to spot.

With some amusement, Cybersix thinks to herself, "I can never get used to seeing Jose. To think he's a clone of the mad doctor that created me out of death and cybernetic implants. To think all it would take is a punch to take him out if it weren't for the Fixed Ideas he likes to order around. Faint chuckle. He sure is a "Fixed Idea" of his own."

Jose and the mostly short blond haired Fixed Ideas with him head into a mostly dark gray museum styled opera house. It may not look it from the outside. But, it's more extravagant from inside.

Cybersix goes after them, high jumping onto the roof of the opera house.

But, in the back of her mind... She senses a presence: A presence on her tail.

Cybersix looks around, a little confused. But then...all doubt goes through the roof.

A black panther with incredible speed leaps right out of the roof. Wood splinters to bits in the air.

Cybersix gasps...as the black panther tackle charges at her through the roof.

She coughs violently against some brown lined dark purple opera chairs up in a opera box.

The black panther goes to kill her: Pinning her against them.

But, even with her vision all blurry... Cybersix hard swings her leg into its side.

The black panther goes flying for a bit...before he rebalances himself in midair to land back on his feet over the wrecked chairs in seconds.

Cybersix starts to get up. Greenish dark red liquid drips a little from her side.

With her soft but almost energetic voice... She uneasily says, "you're a Data series. Now, I don't want to hurt you. But... Violent cough! I will if you leave me no other choice."

The Data panther coughs a little. Then, he growls menacingly at her.

From the sounds... Jose looks up.

He grins creepily.

On the wooden stage are razor sharp black missiles that some of the Fixed Ideas were building up, from a paint by the numbers styled white dotted light green blueprint pinned on a dark purple curtain. Even a child could read what the dotted hands are motioning to do on the blueprint.

The several Fixed Ideas turn to their master.

In grunting drawn out voices... Most of them go, "what?"

In a whiny and kind of gruff voice... Jose mutters lowly, "Doctor Reichter wants to send Data-7 to do my job? All right. I'll prove I can kill Cybersix myself! Blow up the missiles and let's go."

One of the Fixed Ideas goes, "huh?"

Jose sighs impatiently, "just go out! I'll have the fun."

The Fixed Ideas look a little confused. But, they walk out of the place without question.

Jose lights a match from under his tie, strikes it against a chair...and throws it at the blueprint.

The blueprint goes up in flames, melting down upon the missiles on the stage.

With a all too satisfied grin, Jose runs for it.

Meanwhile... The Data panther leaps to attack again.

Cybersix high flip kicks off of a chair, hurling it at him.

The Data panther easily claws through it. But, it's just long enough for her to side kick him down into another opera box.

It gives way in a crumpling cloud of dust, sending the Data Panther violently against the floor.

He starts coughing violently on his side. But, there's not even a scratch on him.

Cybersix jumps down to face him...only for them to both realize too late about the missiles.

They explode in a burst of flames, lighting up the curtains and the rest of the place in a inferno of crumpling stone and flames.

Left with very few choices... A teary eyed Cybersix mumbles somberly, "I'm sorry. But one day...you might even thank me."

She punches out the Data panther.

As more and more opera boxes come down though... Cybersix carries the Data panther out over her shoulders as she runs for it.

But, in trying to save him... The fallout knocks Cybersix and the unconscious body of the Data panther against the ground.

She falls unconscious. A black and white photo of two kids slips from her pockets.

By the time Cybersix gets up though... She breaks down into tears.

Meridiana is burning before the merciless full moon.

Shots are going off. Screams fill the night.

The sound of heavy footsteps of a army of Fixed Ideas are coming in her direction.

Cybersix is interestingly not physically hurt anymore. And, the Data panther is gone.

With a deep breath... She stands back up again.

Knowing staying around is not going to do any good now... Cybersix runs out of the city.

The giant angel statue is smashed by a Fixed Idea.

And, standing there soon after is the distant shadow of Doctor Von Reichter himself: Wearing his solid ghostly yellow circular lens glasses, and grinning creepily at the beginning of his reign.

Around this time, up in a house off the west coast of America...

A young Max with short hair and Lucy were under the gray stairs, hiding when they heard the sparks go off. Lucy thought it was her father breaking things in the kitchen.

Well...something was breaking up.

He was watching a sports game...when a sickly green fist punched right through the TV.

The sparks make him stumble back, his arms over his face.

He tears away his burning up jacket, letting it be put out by the sprinklers on the floor.

As he gets out a gun... He angrily says, "I don't know who the hell you are. But, you're go...!"

A Fixed Idea comes walking through the wall.

He faintly laughs, "I find man for Doctor."

The father struggles against the Fixed Idea grabbing him up. But, it does very little good.

The gun drops to the floor.

The Fixed Idea just walks out with his protesting body, not even bothering to check anywhere. Lingering greenish glowing footprints are left behind as it walks away.

Max whispers, "stay there. But, I think we're ok."

Lucy whispers very uneasily, "you're sure?"

With a hand on hers... Max insists assuringly, "trust me."

Lucy shakily nods: Still a little worried.

Max looks around. But, all that's left is a broken TV and sprinkler water.

She faintly smiles to herself, thinking it was a sign from God or something.

Max fast walks back down to tell Lucy.

Soon, they're both sitting on a light gray red cushioned couch: Just sitting there next to each other, faintly smiling in mixed relief.

Unfortunately... That relief isn't going to last.

Ten years later, in the year 2019...

Patches of jungle terrain and stacked up very dark green castle keeps circle around the very dark purple cobblestone. Lions, tigers, eagles, and snakes are many in the patches of nature left in this cold side of the world.

The night air is filled with stars and shimmers of fallen stars gone by. Swastika with dark green flags are over every jungle patch, like one big demented big top without the circus trailers of death.

Electric fences with silver tube plastered wiring go up and down: Even unnecessarily up walls to be all too easy killing machines for the occasional malfunctioning cybernetic abomination. Dried greenish dark red liquid rims down some of the fences.

Swimming pools and water coolers of the mystical glow rod green glowing substance powering Doctor Von Reichter's creations called Sustenance are everywhere.

There's no lifeguards. But, Fixed Ideas like to go swimming in the stuff: Even when they don't got to rejuvenate and refuel their very creation to stay reanimated, like all of Reichter's creations do.

Mostly physically enhanced Cybers and mostly mentally enhanced Technos patrol the night and day. They resemble humans: Much like Cybersix does. Datas get guard duty for the castles in key areas: Big Data cats and gorillas alike, with cybernetic fortified vibro-claws.

Simple Cybers are just humans with mind control implants.

But, with millions of these beings under the will of Doctor Von Reichter, why hasn't there been any free will for many a year and why did it become so easy for him to take over?

In light of Manticore's failings with the X-5s...Doctor Von Reichter found out about them through a advanced Nazi computer that could tap into any US government program's surveillance systems without detection: Devised by the Schutzstaffel.

He was a key player in their ranks, before the Allies won in World War II and he fled to the Amazon to continue his mad experiments as a war criminal kind of on the run.

Cybersix is all that seems to remain of the first generation of Cybers: Which Doctor Von Reichter systematically killed more than a decade ago for being genetically dispositioned to disobey. So, Manticore DNA was the best kind of sample to infuse in the procedure to change all of that super quick.

He captured some of the X5s with help from spreading out Fixed Ideas across the Americas: Super eager to experiment on even just one of them.

This invasion turned out to be a astounding success: Even to his and Jose's own surprise. They took over in a single night.

Determined not to make the same mistakes as before... He even went as far as infusing all his creations with Manticore DNA, and surgically planting mind control implants in his next generation of Cybers, Simple Cybers, and Technos.

Simple Cybers are just the rest of the millions of people in the Americas: Given mind control implants that broadcast their visual cortexes back through Doctor Von Reichter's hearing aid like yellow implant and to his computer. All to keep a eye on everyone, just in case anyone happens to try to rebel.

But, the thing with a cybernetically run security grid? It's not invincible.

Up in a castle keep...

Max is in a dark red lined jet black catsuit: With a formal collar and marked with barcodes all over, like she's part of a sick demented zoo and she got out on rental body snatching to make the rent.

As she makes out with a guy on the light green sheeted bed, arms wrapped around him...hints of her teary eyes are seen. Yet, her eyes burn fierce: Tempted to wring his Simple Cyber neck.

Max shakily thinks to herself, "what a girl with girl power kept in her has to do to survive on the wrong side of the wall and not go all on the run. I tried to kick these Fixed Ideas on their asses. I tried to find a great big Space Needle to hide out in. But... Deep sigh. What I had to do to survive. Sniffle! Sniffle! Sometimes, I think the world has gotten too broken to care about me in it. Maybe I should just die. Sniffle. Sure wouldn't feel as worse as what I'm doing now."

Darren's tan green T-shirt and jet black jacket are off to the cobblestone floor. The Simple Cyber this time is him.

He moves his arms down to her waist. He's unzipping the zipper in the catsuit between the legs.

It's not long before he's giving himself a "private show".

Max shakes and groans with unease and sobs. But, Simple Cybers are so easy to overload in every way. Even their cybernetic implants go hazy from close contact of the more pleasurable kind.

They never can tell when she cries.

Not long after... Darren collapses over the covers from exhaustion and creepily fueled pleasure.

Max grabs some toilet paper from the bathroom: Soaking them in water and foamy light green liquid soap to put over her "more sensitive" areas.

She then closes the black bathroom door behind her: Taking off Doctor Von Reichter's prostitute issue catsuit on her and taking a shower to wash as much of the germs as possible.

As the shower goes... There's no more tears tonight. Just sore teary eyes, burning with bottled up rage of several years for a certain doctor.

A half hour later...

Max is all cleaned up.

She's walking past the jungle patches. But, she doesn't even stop to look at the caged anymore.

With pulsing rage in her eyes... Max slowly walks around: Looking over her shoulder for any Simple Cybers or not so simple creations walking about.

With a shaky aching crouch that even Doctor Von Reichter would pity... She thinks to herself:

The escape from Manticore was not my idea. I mean, escape to what? We didn't know there was anything else out there.

Now though... It's all worse.

A taste of freedom. Lucy's abusive father taken or dead.

Then, another night comes and goes... Sniffle!

And, it all seems like it meant nothing.

Sometimes it seems like it was all a dream. Like maybe it was a story I heard.

The hardest part is not knowing if any of us back at Manticore made it.

Lucy killed herself years later...after I had her back for so long.

She blamed herself for me putting out for the boys just so she can survive. And then one day...it was just too much.

Sniffle!

I've realized that maybe they're the only family I have. That maybe Zack or the other kids in the X-5 family are living on the run, always looking over their shoulders.

If I knew for sure I was the only one left, it would be worse. At least I could make up lives for them, like maybe Jondy's a fashion photographer or an architect.

The truth is if I find out I'm the only one out here, out on one big con job I'm tripping behind...

Nothing will mean anything. And, I'll end up like Lucy: Kicking herself over surviving one more time before getting myself killed.

Sniffle!

I hope that Zack is out there: Out in Meridiana.

I went through just about every other keep, "buying up my own commerce" with the cyber dogs in this non-commerce hell of a broken world. The only ones left are there.

I never got the chance to thank him. And, in a destiny kind of thing...it's the only sure as hell thing to keep me going for real.

I don't care if it's another brother or sister: So long as it's another brother or sister.

But, for the first time in years... I'm afraid. I'm so afraid.

Sniffle! And, that kills me more than just survival in a cybernetic run Nazi kind of hell.

A hour later...

Max easily jumps over the large fence.

The villas, the apartments... It's all up in very dark purple and very dark blue roofs and cobblestone. The remains of the angel statue lies in the center square: Collecting dust in a patch all its own, with a great big flag tarp over it flapping in the wind.

Not much anyone seems to be out this late: Not even the Fixed Ideas.

Max breathes a little sigh of relief. She seems to have timed it right.

But then, much like a foggy dream... There's Zack: Faintly smiling and standing there.

Max looks stunned.

She somberly checks, "Zack? Why didn't you tell me you were out this late?"

She's about to hug him. But, strangely...Zack just steps back.

Max snaps out of it long enough to see the jagged black rifle out in his hands...and the blank brainwashed stare looking back at her.

Almost robotic, Zack declares, "it's good to see you, sister. Doctor Von Reichter would like to see you and get you in the morning."

Max high jump kicks away the rifle. It goes flying.

Enhanced with cybernetics though... Zack is faster.

He violently punches Max backwards in her side, knocking her down.

Max coughs up dark red liquid as she clutches her heavily bruised side.

And, with the "commerce" she's been up to lately this very night... She lies there: Too exhausted to put up a real fight.

The last thing she sees there is Zack's foot kicking her.

A few hours later...

Max comes to...in a vat like prison cell.

Very dark purple pipes go across the walls. But, they're all electrified with little pale yellow knob like things: Pulsing with sparks.

Max is about to pound on the walls. But, with herself still more than a little shaky...she thinks better of it.

Teary eyed again... She mumbles to herself, "I'm sorry. My God, Zack, I'm so sorry! Sob!"

She pounds on the floor in frustration: Not knowing what else to really do.

Even if she pounded down the walls, the electricity would get her unconscious again. And, ninety Cybers with rifles like Zack's and formal light blue uniforms are around her cell at all times.

The floor cracks. But, only little by little.

She thinks of just throwing herself on the sparks: To just kill herself and not have to wake up to whatever horrific thing Doctor Von Reichter would want to do to her.

She almost does...when her acute hearing picks up something unexpected.

Max pauses: Bending over still to play crybaby in case a Cyber comes in to check on her.

She faintly smirks to herself, "still... Maybe that would be my big deal of a escape. Faint sniffle. Faint laugh. Kind of funny how guys and girls can cling to hope on the wrong side of things."

On the other side of the cell...

A guy with bunched up black hair and some strands of comb like hair is walking with some Cybers, escorting him down the hall. One of them is a cyber with medium gray hair.

The guy wears a dark brown overcoat and circular lens glasses. His name is Albert Sorberan.

He's classified as a Investigator: Doctor Von Reichter's special kind of Technos and Cybers for dealing with runaways and malfunctions. Violently and with not much trace left.

He uneasily says, "thank goodness you're here."

With a slight nervousness to him, Albert Sorberan figures, "don't thank me. This is just my job."

The first Cyber apologizes curtly, "sorry, Investigator."

Albert Sorberan insists, "it's fine. Now, what was so urgent?"

The first Cyber answers solemnly, "we'll show you."

The second Cyber opens a black door for Albert Sorberan.

He stays in the first Cyber's shadow while they all go in.

They come into a control room: One with a advanced Nazi computer with light brown framing, looking like something out of classic Star Trek.

On the screen are the eyes of Eyes Only: With cybernetically enhanced solid red contact lens, pulsing with bright yellow sparks. They're teary eyed with every blink.

Over and over... The broadcast cycles on, "this is a self Streaming Freedom Video Bulletin. Sniffle. It cannot be traced. It cannot be stopped. And... It's the only free voice left in this cyberhell. Sniffle. It's time to wake up from the implants. It's time to fight for freedom from evil incarnate. Or, the world will soon be his. And, no one gets to really wake up."

The first Cyber mutters uneasily, "the Doctor wants him killed before it gets worse. He's already corrupted the west coast of North America with his call. That was just on a Monday."

Albert Sorberan brings up, "he can hack people and computers?"

The first Cyber just blankly stares at him like it's obvious.

Albert grimly sighs. He insists, "I'll get it done. Guard the room. If he starts to hack you, call."

The two Cybers robotically nod as they leave the room. The first one closes the door behind him.

Albert sits down at the computer. But, interestingly...he suddenly smirks.

He breathes a heavy sigh of relief as he takes off his overcoat, revealing a bunched up Dracula styled cape and a silk like jet black dress.

Cybersix unbunches her hair back to her fairly long strands of comb like hair parted on the left, coming over her eye. She puts on her gaucho hat and gloves. She starts to swap boots for her high heels.

The message suddenly changes.

Eyes Only asks her, "you ready?"

Cybersix solemnly nods. She lightly remarks, "I've had years to be ready. I'll be ok."

Eyes Only adds, "good. I already hacked into the prison's database. She's in cell block J2."

Cybersix figures, "all right."

She presses some buttons on the computer, cutting out the transmission.

Not long after...

With some sparking off knob like things in her conductive gloves... Cybersix uppercuts a Cyber into two other Cybers. The Cyber is shut down easy.

The other Cybers come charging for her with rifles.

One of them calls out, "Cybersix: Get her!"

Cybersix runs behind a corner. Gunfire nearly hits her.

She calls back, "is that all you sparkheads got? You could fizzle out anytime now."

Four Cybers speed charge for her. But, she flip kicks off of two of them before they can fire.

Cybersix runs for some cell blocks. But, she doubles over against a black door.

Greenish dark red liquid drips from her side. All that from one lucky shot.

Cybersix groans violently.

But, she swiftly pulls the door open: Blocking incoming fire bouncing off easy.

Most of the rifles explode: Taken out by their own fire.

They clutch their pulsing hands: With greenish dark red liquid cuts all over.

They're healing themselves, with little bright green Sustenance glowing over them. But, even that takes a considerable bit.

Max looks up at hearing the door open.

Both unsure and yet not... She's quick to ask, "I take it you're the Cybersix?"

Cybersix solemnly nods, "I am."

Max kicks off the door with a kick to it.

Most of the Cybers go down all too easy, knocked out by it.

With very mixed relief, Max faintly smiles, "right behind you."

Cybersix uneasily runs on for the door out. Max runs to catch up.

Max comments, "least a ass kicker like you came to get me out. Took you long enough though."

Several more Cybers fire at them with rifles.

Max and Cybersix flip kick off of some of them to take them out.

Max punches down at another, swinging the arm with the gun into another Cyber before tossing the guy with the gun into a wall to take them both out.

Cybersix blocks two Cybers from trying to flip kick her down with her arms up.

She reactively clutches her pulsing bruised arms. But, Cybersix high jump kicks both Cybers against the wall. It collapses in on them in dust.

With mixed faint smiles towards each other, Cybersix and Max run on for the door.

Feeling a little more comfortable now... Cybersix admits, "it's kind of a long story. But, it wasn't easy. I had to come in as Albert Solberan to get you out."

With a faint laugh, Max smirks, "must be into crossdressing then. Now there's a picture."

She pries open the door, letting it fall in a heap against the wall.

Cybersix reasons, "not often. But, sometimes. It's a long story of its own." Max comments back, "I'm sure it is."

Max goes to head out. But, she pauses.

Cybersix has propped up one of the unconscious Cybers so she can lean over its neck.

Looking at her funny... Max goes, "what the hell are you doing?"

Cybersix pulls herself away: Some Sustenance on her lips. A teeth rimmed cut on the Cyber's neck is slowly healing back up with faint glows of Sustenance.

In seconds though... Cybersix's side glows in Sustenance. And, the bullet falls out of her side like nothing happened there.

She bends her lips in to get rid of the glowing Sustenance on them.

She then awkwardly turns back to Max.

Cybersix admits, "I'm not happy about it. But, I need Sustenance to live. The neck is the only way to get concentrated Sustenance in a body, and security around the pools is a nightmare."

Max solemnly figures, "you didn't have to go into all of that. I understand. Come on."

Cybersix faintly smiles with some relief as they both head out the open doorway.

Max is quick to add, "still... You're not the only one who's got to take medicine to keep going."

They both run.

They easily jump over the electrified fence: Even as twenty more Cybers open fire at them.

They land on the other side in one of the courtyards, unhurt and still going.

Cybersix faintly smiles back, "it looks like I'm not the only one with some long stories. Maybe we'll compare notes someday." A little amused, Max figures, "maybe."

Several hours later, as the sun starts to slowly come up...

A mostly dark brown moving van is driving down the courtyards, with a dark green lined very dark red front on it and Cybersix in the driver's seat. Two way mirror windshields with solid yellow tank armor mask their presence from view of passing by Fixed Ideas and Cybers.

In the empty light yellow back is a rocking back and forth shaking Max, taking some Tryptophan Cybersix came prepared with.

Still kind of exhausted, Max kind of weakly says, "thanks."

Cybersix says assuringly, "you're welcome. Before I left the west coast, Eyes Only got some from a pharmacy with cobwebs over it."

Max faintly smirks, "guess there is some mirth to find in cybernetically run hell. So, who is this Eyes Only guy? I heard of him a little. But...it would do some good to hear it from you."

More than a little uncomfortable, Cybersix says, "after years of looking for someone that can."

Black and white flashes go by: Of her secret identity of Adrian the literature teacher, of thinking out loud to herself in the night in her dimly lit apartment in Meridiana, of barely fighting off Fixed Ideas on her own, of hanging out and having coffee with a stupid but well meaning muscular biology teacher with frontless medium almost mullet like blond hair named Lucas Amato as Adrian...and of finding him in the wreckage of one of Doctor Von Reichter's castles and crying over his burned up corpse.

Teary eyed, Max uncomfortably says, "I'm sorry."

Teary eyed, Cybersix insists, "it's ok. You didn't take over the Americas. My creator Doctor Von Reichter and his clone child Jose did."

Max mumbles under her breath, "damn. We're both kind of like Frankenstein then."

Cybersix stops the van for a bit. She turns to her, "sorry. I didn't get that." Max awkwardly figures, "oh. Just thinking. Still...it would be good to hear about this Eyes Only. If you're cool with it."

Cybersix solemnly says, "ok."

She goes back to driving.

She explains, "he's a Techno. Not even I know how he did it. But in recent months, he's broken free within. He's more machine than human. But, he can hack anything: Even brain reconfiguring implants. We freed most everyone on the coastal cities. But, even he can't hack into Doctor Von Reichter's castle without getting locked out. Eyes Only thinks you're our best hope for getting in."

Dead serious, Max reasons, "well, if we can kill mister Doctor Mengele himself and stop his fascist rule...I'll sure as hell take it. What should I do?"

Kind of nervously and kind of not, Cybersix points out, "even with the fascist rule...I'd like him to be locked up if we can. But, yes: I get it if there's no other way."

Not sure what else to add, Max says, "I guess thanks?"

Cybersix nervously realizes, "oh. Yeah. What you should do. It looks like Doctor Von Reichter's implant can make him put up protection just as quickly as Eyes Only can hack it. You would come with me and find us a way in. Turn off whatever it takes to let Eyes Only in and free everyone from the mind control. It looks like it's that easy: If he can hack it."

With some relief, Max faintly smiles, "cliques mostly on our side. Sounds good." She's thinking of Zack as she says it.

With mixed relief, Cybersix adds, "I know how that feels."

Max can't help but ask, "what's up?"

Some tears fall from Cybersix's face.

She somberly admits, "that day... That day he took over... It wasn't long before he burnt down every thing and everyone I cared for. I have a alive corpse. I keep telling myself that death is easy to change back. But, as years of running came and went... Sniffle. I realized that isn't easy: Not even for me. After this mission though...I'm hoping it can all get easier."

Teary eyed again, Max nervously says, "I'm sorry. Been kind of on the run myself...and hoping for same. I know what it can do to you."

Cybersix solemnly adds, "thanks. That does help." Max adds, "sure."

She wonders, "so...if you don't take that Sustenance junk... You turn back into a corpse?"

Cybersix figures, "yes. It's not something I like to think of. But, yes."

Max comments, "ouch."

With a faint smile, Cybersix highlights, "it's ok. After dying young and coming back alive as a freedom fighting Cyber, everything else has seemed easy."

Sounding kind of stunned and kind of not, Max goes, "nice."

Cybersix lightly acknowledges, "thanks."

One night later...

Max is no longer in the dark red lined catsuit. She's now in a jet black catsuit.

Cybersix and her are standing on a mountain, covered in jungle bushes and observatory styled watchtowers of mostly pale grey with dark grey satellite dishes. A Dracula styled castle in very dark purple with gray tube covered wiring down its sides stands on top: With many Data series on guard around the rock ledge before the entrance.

They're catching their breath on the rock faces.

It's been a long climb on account of how high up it is. It almost rivals the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

Cybersix checks, "you ok?"

Max tries to assure her, "yeah. Can't really be feeling down with a classic."

Cybersix faintly smiles. She says, "thanks. I picked it myself. But..."

Max asks, "what?"

Cybersix concludes kind of nervously, "come on, Max. I see something is getting you feeling worse, and it looks to be more than just a dress."

Max deeply sighs, teary eyed.

Looking right at her... She grimly voices, "damn straight there is."

With concern, Cybersix questions, "what's wrong?"

Finding it hard to look at her or the night sky... Max somberly mutters, "nothing to do with you. Just... Sniffle. Sometimes I don't know if there's even going to be a tomorrow. Sometimes...I don't know if I can even take being alive."

With her hands sympathetically on her shoulders... Cybersix tries her best to assure her, "Max... Deep sigh. I know it's going to sound like I don't care. I know I don't understand everything you've gone through. But, don't worry. It'll be ok. We got good on our side this time. There will be a tomorrow. We just got to see this night through."

With a sniffle, Max wipes away her teariness.

She says, "thanks. I needed that. I just hope it'll be enough."

Max is tempted to hug her. But, with years of putting out still creeping on her mind...she can't bring herself to just yet.

Cybersix faintly smiles. She says, "I think it will. Let's go."

They both start running up the mountain again.

Somewhere up on the west coast of North America... Eyes Only is in his own metal chair, dark blue lined and mostly black with some speakers to act as improvised comlinks via implants within his own network of Cybers and Technos. Through his cybernetically enhanced solid red contact lens, he's watching over the Simple Cybers's surveillance network of implants.

He's sweaty like crazy. But, past the lens...there's cold determination: Just aching to be let out.

With a cold tone...Eyes Only orders to his followers, "go."

From North to South America...

Cybers and Technos free from the evil doctor's clutches are charging for the castles en mass, with rifles blazing and legs kicking down the suddenly electronically disabled metal doors.

Data series, Cybers, and Technos fight back.

Some of Eyes Only's Cybers and Technos go down, coughing violently over themselves without more Sustenance to grab. But, with electrified gloves punching them down and catching their superstrong fits, they're falling unconscious by the thousands.

The war seems to be a easy win by the sheer unexpectedness of so many on Eyes Only's side.

Still... With Cybers with rifles of their own and the Fixed Ideas massing after them... Gunfire is beginning to kill them en mass: Unless someone puts a stop to it all in time.

Meanwhile, back on the mountain...

They're several rock ledges away...when a certain Data panther comes walking toward them, carrying a certain black and white picture.

Max gets ready with her fists. But, Cybersix gets in front of her.

Cybersix lowly goes, "wait." Max looks fairly confused, "what?"

Cybersix figures, "long story. But, it looks like he might not want to hurt us."

Max warily comments, "ok. I believe it because you're a friend. But, don't make this about me if he kicks us on one of our asses."

A little amused by her language, Cybersix faintly smirks, "don't worry about it. I won't."

Max faintly smirks back.

With a surprising quietness, Data-7 drops the photo on the ground and steps back a little. Cybersix bends down to look.

She gets a little teary...recognizing it as the same photo she lost years ago.

It's of two slightly smiling little kids, with formal short sleeved shirts and hints of deep stitching around their foreheads. One is a girl with medium comb like black tinted hair parted on the left, much like Cybersix's. The other is a boy with black tinted medium hair.

In black and white... She thinks back to when she and the boy were playing in the Amazon on a rainy stormy day. They were running around the trees, looking for flowers when he thought he could find them easier by climbing one.

But, with how slippery the branches were... He fell several feet.

The young Cybersix rushed back to a blurry picture of a camp to get help...as the boy's consciousness started to slip. His designation was Cyber-29.

In black and white... Data-7 thinks back to Cybersix's words, "I'm sorry. But one day...you might even thank me." He sees Doctor Von Reichter grinning triumphantly at him under a medical bed...and the fresh deep stitching around his very dark reddish panther forehead.

Presently... Cybersix sees a slash next to the boy in the photo, but not over him.

And, as she picks up the photo to look at the back... She realizes she doesn't have to.

She sees little rocks where it once was: Making the shape of the light red jungle flower they searched for all those years ago.

Fairly stunned, Cybersix thinks out loud, "you...are Cyber-29. You're alive."

Data-7 faintly nods, just standing there.

Cybersix hugs him. He nuzzles and licks her a little.

They're both smiling with relief as Cybersix lets go. She gets up again.

With a faint smirk, Max says, "must be some long story you got. And, I don't mean to be a pest. But, we still got a mission here."

Cybersix firmly nods, "I know. But, he's my brother."

Max is suddenly looking a little weirded out. She says, "o...k. Sorry. I get it. But, still: That's sure as hell some image."

Cybersix insists assuringly, "no, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would. It's ok. Let's go."

Max adds, "thanks."

The three of them start heading up more of the mountain.

Cybersix figures, "you're welcome. Although, if Doctor Von Reichter doesn't know he's been alive all this time...maybe Data-7 can help us get in all the easier."

With a faint smile, Max figures, "all right. I'd be game."

Several minutes later, up on the mountaintop...

After a exchange of little roars and hisses... Data-7 leads Max and Cybersix inside: Past all the Data cats and the kind of confused Data gorillas scratching their heads.

The metal door automatically opens and closes behind them.

Inside... It's like one big gothic mansion.

Dark purple chandeliers of metal knob like things spark like mad. Arches over the metal gated ways glow with flowing Sustenance in their see through tubes. Gray vampire bat statues stand along the railing for the intersecting double staircases, meeting up at one very dark blue lined bright green rimmed advanced Nazi computer: With a sparking off chandelier over it, and a gray metal gate styled chair.

They start to go up the stairs...when Max pauses.

Max says, "actually...I think I'll see about getting the mind control implants to go down hard."

Kind of confused, Cybersix turns back to her, "o...k. You sure it's what you want?"

Max reflects, "maybe I want to kill Reichter for leaving this side of the world broken. Still... Meridiana is your home. And, you're the best guys we got to take him on. So, go. Kick his ass for me."

Data-7 purrs a little over it. Cybersix faintly chuckles, "ok. Thanks."

With a faint smile, Max adds back, "sure."

Cybersix and Data-7 run up the steps ahead of her.

Lightning blasts come down from the chandelier above. But, Max throws some kind of big rocks she got from outside in its way: Exploding in dust in the air.

From the other side of a second advanced Nazi computer in a dark room... A teenage Jose sees the three of them briefly on the security camera feeds. He looks stunned, "what?! I thought I killed her. Laugh. No matter. I'll kill her before "good father" wakes up."

Back on the steps... Max quickly presses some buttons and pulls some switches at the computer: Shutting down all the chandeliers and security feeds.

With parallel processing on her side, she also quickly figures out how to lock onto every mind control implant across the Americas. They show up as greenish black skull icons on a grid of tiny dark purple castles, like it's a game of Crystal Castles with grids to the power of ten.

Max beams at this. She thinks to herself, "not even hiding that you're a Neo-Nazi bent whack."

From behind her though... A trapdoor opens.

And, there is Jose: With a collared light blue short sleeved shirt, blackened teeth from so many years of not brushing much, army boots and very dark brown jeans, and his hair over his eyes to the point of his glasses being almost like goggles. He's also carrying a glowing metal pack with a gray hose.

He calls out, "no! I'm not letting anyone wreck our cities: Especially not some X-5 army bitch."

Max mutters back, "you know what your problem is? Your fascist ego is larger than even Reichter's ass."

She presses a button to shut it all down.

Everything goes dark as the lights go out. The skull icons are briefly seen being replaced by Eyes Only logos seconds before the computer goes offline.

Around this time, from North to South America...

Every Simple Cyber, every Cyber, every Techno... They all kind of pause: Very confused and cautious around each other, especially for the just freed ones.

Some keep firing away on both sides though. It seems to be just adding more corpses to the pile.

But then, interestingly...the Fixed Ideas start looking nervous.

Most of them cry out, "the Doctor killing our brothers. Run!"

They all soon start running for the coasts, jumping into the water and swimming away.

The Cybers and Technos left on Doctor Von Reichter's side suddenly find themselves outgunned...as they're easily knocked out or shot up by freed Cybers, Simple Cybers, and Technos.

Many of the Simple Cybers crowd around the fences, hacking weapon parts at them to cut them loose in going off sparks. Glass windows to storerooms and bars shatter before thrown in bodies.

Around this time...

Some Fixed Ideas charge for Cybersix and Data-7. But, with the element of surprise, Data-7 pounces down on one.

Cybersix is barely able to hold off the incoming arms of two more with her electrified gloves. They heal back up easy.

As they clutch their pulsing arms though, she violently kicks them against the wall.

Lightning blasts from chandeliers hit them instead of Cybersix and Data-7: Knocking them out.

They run on for a bedroom: Where Doctor Von Reichter himself is stirring from his sleep.

He has fairly long greased forward black hair over his glasses, some greased hair bunched up in the back, a dark brown hiker styled army uniform, and one of the longest long shaped faces ever.

With a kind of gruff voice, Doctor Von Reichter soon realizes, "Cybersix."

Data-7 is quick to pounce on him in the bed.

He carefully slashes off the hearing aid implant along with half of his glasses: Much to the nervousness of Doctor Von Reichter.

Cybersix is just coming into the room...when a lightning burst comes off the exploding implant.

Data-7 is knocked down, shaking on the bed as Doctor Von Reichter goes to make a run for it.

Teary eyed, Cybersix rushes over to Data-7.

She checks worriedly, "Data-7?"

Back with Max...

Jose angrily fires a blast of glowing very dark greenish blue Sustenance from the hose.

Max tries to side tumble out of the way. But, it splatters her against the console.

She bends over in it in excruciating pain. It feels like a closing fist is around her very chest, and she has to curl up upright just to keep it all together.

Max groans violently over and over, much to Jose's vicious laughter.

She viciously glares at him, "how...violent groan...is a bastard like you...?!"

Jose is all too happy to explain, "oh, that? Hard laugh! It's my kind of Sustenance: Chemically battered and whipped from the original stuff, and painful. I got so tired of being beaten up by spoilsports. So, I made this stuff for taking care of spoilsports. You always try to ruin my fun."

While he's ranting though... Max feels some very dented in metal plates, which have come loose.

Jose faintly laughs. He says, "still... I could have so much fun, once I splice your brain with a Data's brain and make you my slave animal."

Max mutters snarkily, "could just kick your brain out your ass and do a service to the whole community. And... Oh. Yeah. Up yours!"

Jose goes to punch her out. But, with a satisfied smirk...Max violently slams a metal plate into his head.

His glasses shatter in, going into his eyes.

He screams in excruciating pain, as he clutches his pulsing aching head. Greenish dark red liquid drips from between his fingers.

And, even with Max curling up again... She kicks him against the railing.

Jose falls down onto the intersection, face flat.

He falls unconscious: Blind as a bat and cold as stone, like the statues around him.

Not taking the pain anymore... Max falls unconscious in the dark.

Around this time...

Data-7 lightly growls back, pointing to the doctor with a claw.

Cybersix solemnly nods...as she run charges for Doctor Von Reichter.

Several more Fixed Ideas form a wall around him. But, Cybersix is determined.

She high jumps for one of the chandeliers...when the lights suddenly go out.

Cybersix faintly smirks.

She violently swing kicks away two of the Fixed Ideas at their heads, stunning them.

In the confusion, she grabs up the doctor and hurls him against the wall.

Cybersix then lands on her feet.

Even in the dark... One of the Fixed Ideas grabs her. Some bones crack.

But, Cybersix electrifies him in the gut: Making him let go before high kicking him out.

She then faces Doctor Von Reichter, grabbing him up by the shirt.

Doctor Von Reichter calls out in fear, "no! Please! I'm sure we can work something out. I am the soon to be ruler of the world. You want Sustenance? I'll give you..."

With some unease, Cybersix mutters back, "it's never that easy. But, I'll never join you."

She punches him out.

Cybersix then turns to the other Fixed Ideas left.

She comments, "if I were you, I'd go."

The Fixed Ideas run away: Down the steps and out the door.

As they do though... Cybersix sees Max's unconscious body in the dark Sustenance.

Cybersix hurries to her.

Cybersix shakily mumbles to herself, "Max?! Oh god."

She turns back on the electricity with a switch so she can turn on emergency sprinklers.

The dark Sustenance is slowly but surely washing away. As it is...Max weakly opens her eyes.

She wonders, "did...did we finish the mission?"

With great relief, Cybersix says, "yes. We did. We'll all be ok. We're getting out of here."

Max faintly smiles, "good."

She falls unconscious again. But, Cybersix feels her chest. And, she can feel her heart pulsing.

She faintly smiles to herself in assurance, as she gets up to get a towel for her.

From North to South America...

Cheers begin to soar across the land.

Millions are standing back to sob or think deeply about it all to themselves. Millions are going back to their apartments and courtyard to hang out and drink to their victory of being freed: Even if they'll get such big hangovers in the morning.

And, millions are frantically going back to the computers: Sorting and figuring out what to do with all these implants and Sustenance, and too tired to fight each other over it all.

But, for the first time... Eyes Only smiles. And, the tears are easy to wipe away.

Whatever shape the land takes now... He knows it can only get better from here.

The next day, up in the former ruler's castle...

In a recently gone sweaty white sleeveless top... Max is standing at the computer: With a cordless phone in her hand, and a place holder for it on the console.

From the other end... A very familiar teary eyed guy says, "Max."

Very stunned by the sudden call... Max realizes, "Zack? How did you...?"

Kind of uncomfortably, Zack reveals, "after the other night... Somehow, I knew that you had just saved the free world. But, that's not what I'm calling for."

Now sounding uneasy, Max questions, "then what is?"

With mixed feelings, Zack thinks out loud, "I remember you came for me. You're a good soldier. Sniffle. I appreciate everything you did, Max. But, if you know what's good for you... You'll back away. And, you won't look for me again."

On the verge of tears...Max questions, "back away? What are you talking about?"

Zack bitterly explains, "moderate sigh. I want to accept sentimentality is not a weakness. I want to accept that there's no more running. But... Sniffle! Being with me is just going to get you killed."

Max somberly says, "I don't understand."

Zack says, "I'd be surprised if you did. But, for years... Sniffle. I've been at the beck and call of Doctor Von Reichter as a Investigator. Yes: My mind was forced back at Manticore with a implant. But, when I shut my eyes...I can hear their screams. I can see myself killing brothers and sisters. I don't know if any of us are left. Please...just back away. Sniffle! I'm just one big lie. It's better that way."

He hangs up.

Max puts down the phone.

She stands there, silently crying to herself over it.

From behind her though... Cybersix appears: Still in her signature dress and cape from last night.

Kind of nervously, Cybersix asks, "you ok?"

Max sniffles. She turns to her.

With a sympathetic hand on hers... Max figures, "no. But, I will be."

Cybersix says, "ok. Well...you know where to find me if you want to talk about it."

Max somberly says, "I know. Thanks." With a faint smile, Cybersix adds, "you're welcome."

She walks up the steps, leaving Max to her thoughts.

But, they both faintly smile back to each other before she does.

A few weeks later, up in a apartment down in Meridiana...

Through the window, the sun is going down. The gray blue sheets are laid out on the bed.

And, sitting there on the bed...are Max and Cybersix: Topless, with their clothes to the side.

Max checks, "you ok?"

Nervously, Cybersix admits, "I like you. But...you sure this isn't going too fast?"

Max lightly concludes, "faint chuckle. Cybersix... After years of hell... It's a new world out there. We've had weeks of on and on days together to think about things. No missions. Since that day you broke me out...I can't not think about you. I'm sure. But, only if it's ok for you."

She blushes a little midway through. Cybersix blushes a little herself.

Cybersix says, "thanks. Maybe I'm not sure about going out now. But..."

Leaning cautiously closer... Max asks, "yeah?"

Cybersix admittedly says, "I'm ok with going for it. But, slow. Is that ok with you?"

Max pauses, "ok. I got to admit: I go fast. But, I'll try not to with you. How does that sound?"

Cybersix faintly smiles. She assuringly tells her, "it sounds good."

With a smirk, Max kisses her.

Cybersix and Max hold each others's faces, each swept in the other's hands.

After a bit, they pull apart.

And, Max just says, "not a problem."

They both faintly smile to each other over that.

And so begins a new world: For them, and everyone else in the not so broken anymore world.


	25. After The Dark Episodes with Max

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Mockumentary Featurette:

After the Dark Episodes With Max

Foreword/Author Note:

The fabric of reality has been torn to bring you this featurette. But, not to worry. Shortly after you finish watching, it'll just bend back to normality.

Or, as normal as one can get with Dark Angel.

* * *

Out in a Eyes Only safe house...

Max is sitting at the faint dark red tinted wood table in her ripped and torn Max 9000 Kicking Hal Ass top. Across from her is a guy in a jet black hoodie and a Eyes Only face mask, with barely anything holding up the middle of the mask where the one large eye hole is.

Looking a little amused, Max comments, "I take it you're a Eyes Only fan?"

The guy says kind of nervously, "moderate sigh. Actually, it was the only way I could pass through reality again...get a second chance at some things."

Looking at him suspiciously, Max wonders, "who are you then? Did you break in, or...?"

With his hands up, the guy insists, "no. Not even. Mister Eyes Only said he'd let me interview you: So long as I don't make trouble."

Max just rolls her eyes annoyedly. She figures, "you could have just said that you were the interviewer guy. Still...I got to ask. Why do you seem familiar?"

The guy explains, "heavy sigh. Maybe wearing this is good. I'm not looking to make trouble. But, if you saw who I was... I don't know what you'd do."

Max just figures, "whatever. Let's get through this bitch then."

Sounding a little better, the interviewer says, "okay."

He goes ahead to ask, "well... What led you and Eyes Only to turn it into a show?"

Max faintly smiles, "well... It already was one. Just more classified and without commercials. Faint chuckle."

She goes on, "a few years after that run...I thought it might be nice to put them up: So more girls can look up to someone in history class or something. After the Pulse, we can still sure as hell use all the girl power we got. And, hey. It's a few years since. Now those missions are declassified for the air and commerce."

The interviewer faintly chuckles. He adds, "nice. Just...all of it is."

Max faintly beams, "thanks. What else you got?"

The interviewer asks, "what was the best part of doing this show for you?"

Max remarks, "getting to be a bitch and getting damn good commerce for it."

Sounding a little embarrassed, the interviewer comments, "sorry. I didn't know you were into that kind of thing."

Max questions, "what do you mean?"

The interviewer answers uncomfortably, "porn."

Max looks wide eyed. She insists, "oh god no."

The interviewer apologizes, "sorry."

Max mostly assures, "just don't bring it up again, and I won't kick your ass out."

The interviewer nervously says, "right. No one wants that."

Max solemnly figures, "glad we understand each other then."

Turning back to his question... Max explains, "I just meant being the bitch I am. Faint chuckle. Telling people what to do is also nice. But, so is hanging with friends for a living that aren't snooty."

The interviewer concludes lightly, "sure. I hear that. Not that I'm bossy. But..."

Max figures, "yeah. I know what you mean." The interviewer just adds, "ok."

He questions next, "so... What was the worst part of doing this show? You don't have to answer. But..."

Max insists lightly, "no. It's ok."

Kind of uneasily, she goes on, "it's kind of painfully obvious really. Even after the Pulse, most of those TV guys are... Well, guys that are looking to peep or something. Faint chuckle. When they thought of calling me Maximum Girl for the show, I almost threw Cameron out the window over it."

The interviewer chuckles at that. He adds, "yeah. I'm kind of glad they didn't."

Max looks relaxed now, with her feet up on the table.

She adds, "same."

The interviewer says, "I got another question." Max adds, "sure. Spill it."

The interviewer questions, "what kind of movies are you into?"

Max looks a little amused.

She thinks out loud, "well... The thing is... It's actually hard for me to pick just one kind. Guys being honest and saving the world, guys and girls chilling and getting drunk out on their asses, girls kicking ass on TV... I'm down for mostly whatever: So long as it's not "too" hands on in the bed or something."

The interviewer looks wide eyed. He realizes lightly, "whoa. Definitely a wide range."

Max figures, "yeah. Still... 2001: A Space Odyssey kicks ass. But, I think the best movie to chill with is The Jetsons Movie: Because I'm a large fan of that world. That's the childhood I'm never going to get right there."

The interviewer asks nervously, "I'm sorry. Did I...?"

With a faint laugh, Max insists, "no. You didn't say anything worth kicking your ass over. I got over that one years ago."

Sounding relieved, the interviewer concludes, "all right then."

Max puts her feet back down.

She starts to say, "I got more, if it's not..."

The interviewer mostly assures, "oh. Yeah. Don't let me stop you."

Max just faintly laughs. She comments, "no one's stopping me. But, I feel you."

She opens with more, "Xena's all right: When Original Cindy's there to have my back and skip over the too bent with me things. Not a James Bond fan. But, Leverage and Buffy are up there for real. Whatever I'm feeling, inner bitch or not, they're always good. Faint chuckle. Even the in bed stuff is not that big of a big dealio for them. One's more all ages and con jobs to fight the power. One's more in the darkness and all kinds of kick ass: Especially Miss Vampire Slayer herself."

The interviewer comments, "nice." Beaming, Max adds, "thanks."

The interviewer continues, "ok. We already know what kind of movies you're into. But, what kind of movies do you not like?"

Max deduces, "hmm. If I got to pick...I got to say talking animals."

Sounding confused, the interviewer comments, "ok. I'm surprised."

Max reveals uncomfortably, "I know they're kind of just puppets or something. But, coming from my take on things... Thinking too much about it reminds me too much of Manticore. Heavy sigh. Do I really have to finish that line of thinking? I'm already getting kind of sick over it."

Interviewer insists lightly, "not if you don't want to." Max adds, "thanks."

The interviewer figures, "sure. I'm still kind of surprised though." Max wonders, "really? Now you got me curious."

The interviewer figures awkwardly, "yeah. Well... Jetsons is a classic for you, and Astro is a talking dog. What do you think?"

Max comments nervously, "damn. You kind of got me there. Umm..."

The interviewer tries to assure her, "I'm sorry. You don't have to if you..."

Max faintly nods. She assures him back, "no. I think I'm good. Faint nervous laugh. Guess I only get creeped out by the live action kind. What else you got? I'm here all day."

The interviewer slightly chuckles, "sure. I got more."

Max urges on, "then don't hold out on my account. Go."

The interviewer start to wonder, "well... About the show..." Max adds, "yeah?"

The interviewer goes on, "you seem to be kind of easy to get creeped out. Yet, in the show... You do a lot of it. I'm surprised you can do it all. What is your secret? That is, if it's not too much trouble to ask."

Max chuckles hard, leaving the interviewer confused.

After a bit... She says, "sorry. There's no secret...because I really don't do it all. We all had "sexual" doubles and "stress" doubles for the not so good parts. We stepped in for the rest. Faint chuckle. Easiest commerce the gang could hope to make. It was nice to meet more people also."

The interviewer just looks amused, "whoa. That sure sounds like nice cash."

Max adds, "exactly."

The interviewer points out, "then... How did you get them to look like all of you? There can't be lookalikes everywhere."

Max simply answers, "Eyes Only is good with the green screen like you wouldn't believe. Only me or someone else like me can tell it's green screen."

The interviewer comments, "faint chuckle. Yeah. I should've seen that one coming."

Max comments back, "maybe. No big dealio though."

The interviewer adds, "thanks." Max just figures, "sure."

The interviewer goes on, "okay. I got three more questions."

Max figures, "go right ahead." The interviewer adds, "thanks."

He questions, "if you could just take off to anywhere, where would it be?"

Max concludes, "nice. Well...that's easy. Long as I'm with my boyfriend and can have all my friends stop by, I'm good. Oh. And, as long as it's not coming down from superlasers from Death Stars or a rat problem. Then I'm good."

The interviewer faintly chuckles. He figures, "I was thinking a country."

Max comments, "faint chuckle. Well, maybe I just like this one just fine. Although... Maybe also the United Kingdom. I hear a lot of good things about it from Caitlin and Sydney. So, maybe it's at least worth the trip. Not a big Canada fan though. Don't get me wrong. A lot of my friends like it. I'm sure there's a lot to like. But, with all the mismanagement up there for the past ten years... Yeah. I just don't think I'd like to be there for long."

The interviewer figures, "yeah. So have I: Thought of going to the United Kingdom. The only thing is it's kind of uptight: At least for me."

Max comments, "not sure I feel like that. But, if I had to be nice to everyone... Even not really so "high society" bastards... I got to be honest: I'd just start saying things like ass and slut and get my ass put in a cell for it. And, that's if those guys are getting off easy. I feel you there."

A little caught off guard, the interviewer concludes, "yeah. Thanks."

Max concludes, "yeah."

The interviewer asks, "if you weren't a genetically enhanced action woman, what would you like to do for a living?"

Max comments, "faint chuckle. I like that: Action woman. Often, my friends say I'm a genetically enhanced killing machine."

The interviewer concludes, "well, I like action movies. So..."

Max faintly smiles. She figures, "yeah. Mostly same, because of what I already got into. But, something in telecommunications would be awesome: With or without super powers. Faint chuckle. You know, for a interviewer guy that doesn't want me to really know him... You're making it hard for me not to want to nose around and find out for myself."

The interviewer nervously adds, "umm...thanks. Last question."

Not sure what to think exactly, Max figures, "sure."

The interviewer figures, "any favorite sports? You seem like the kind of woman who likes that kind of action."

Max figures, "sorry. Not really. Closest thing is riding...my Ninja."

She pauses at the last part.

She blushes a little, looking more wide eyed all of a sudden.

The interviewer questions nervously, "what?"

Sounding a little colder... Max pieces together, "now I remember you. It might still be hazy from that one night. But... You're Rafer. Aren't you?"

The interviewer sighs heavily.

He takes off the mask and the hood...to reveal a faintly familiar face with moderate black hair slightly curly on the front.

Rafer nervously says, "I hoped you wouldn't find me out."

With a faint glare, Max comments, "parallel processing, Rafer. There's little I can't find out."

Very nervously, Rafer asks, "are you throwing my ass out now?"

A little teary eyed, Max figures, "I was in heat then. You must have seen enough of the show. You know what I mean. It's not worth kicking your ass for a big mistake I made. Sniffle. Just tell me something."

With mixed nervousness, a teary eyed Rafer says, "what?"

Max asks, "why did you come then?"

Rafer heavily sighs.

He explains, "because the pizza delivery companies all got together and cut out the delivery guys. Then, when I went out looking for something else... The show outed me. Of course, the names were changed to protect people like me from something like that. But, enough of my friends found out. Then, when I'm about to be driven out of town... Some crazy portal opened up. Next thing I know, I'm at Eyes Only's doorstep. And, he's offering me a chance to start over. How could I not? Sniffle."

Max murmurs nervously, "ouch."

After a few long minutes... Max somberly adds, "I'm sorry too. I didn't know any of that."

Rafer nervously asks, "well...now what do we do? Or, what do I do? I don't even have a life to go back to, and I might not have one that'll last going back out there."

A few tears fall from his face.

Max heavily sighs.

She then grabs a old fashioned mostly gray remote from the window ledge, right above a turned off silvery gray video monitor.

Max considers, "well... It's time for me to be honest: The great and powerful Eyes Only left this remote for me. Said I'd probably figure it out, and that it should be up to me. But, I didn't know who you were until now."

Rafer wonders, "wait. You're saying that's a sci-fi remote?"

Max answers, "yeah. It is. I can scroll through what reality on the world to send you to through the feed. But, I think it'd be ok if you scrolled ahead: Long as I'm here to be sure you're just getting a new life. Eyes Only security and crap."

Kind of amused and not, Rafer figures, "thanks, I guess."

Max hands him the remote. She comments kind of lightly, "sure. Knock yourself out."

She then fast walks over to the monitor.

She's about to turn it back on for him.

But... Rafer tries to say, "Max..."

Max asks uneasily, "what is it?"

Rafer nervously says, "sorry. I just... I got to ask. If it wasn't for being in heat...would we have been friends?"

A little amused sounding, Max answers, "maybe. Still...who knows? You might find another me to have another chance with not kicking our asses over it. I'd wish you luck then."

Sounding more ok now, Rafer reasons, "thanks. If I do see another you...I'll try."

With a faint smile, Max adds, "sure. Ready?"

Rafer answers, "yeah."

She then turns on the monitor.

And, as soon as Rafer selects a channel... Bent reality gives way to a shining light of new hope. And, the whole safe house seems to pop away.

Or, is it really gone?

The Post-Pulse world may never know.


	26. From Eyes Only's Secret Safe

Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story

Special Feature/Featurette: From Eyes Only's Secret Safe

Author Notes: This is a collection of ideas for a Dark Angel media legacy that could be or could have been.

But, since I don't have enough ideas with Dark Angel left to make them more than just ideas on my own, I felt it would be better to show them off here.

I'm aware that some ideas aren't really for stories. But, I felt like showing them here regardless.

If you want to co-write one of them with me, I'll definitely think about it.

If you want to write your own spin-off from any ideas in this collection, I'm already giving you permission. No need to ask.

Doesn't mean I'll automatically like it. But, it doesn't mean I'll automatically hate it either.

Now, whether you're going to write a spin-off from it or not... Feel free to enjoy reading from the theoretical blueprints from the now opening up Eyes Only Secret Safe.

* * *

Dark Angel Season 2 DVD Set: Of Wolves and Devils Special Features(Audio Commentaries)

-Behind the scenes audio commentaries for every episode by Jessica, Michael, Mister Cameron himself, and by other writers and producers

1) including one from Michael saying that the second season almost wasn't released because of 9/11, but was delayed until next year to be released at a somewhat better time

2) and including some commentaries from Jessica saying how she was mostly relieved that the first draft for the second season never made it, and that the final draft of the second season wasn't tapering off and actually kept going to darker places(mostly moving on from Manticore and much less being "in heat" for her to do this time around)

Dark Angel Season 2 DVD Set: Of Wolves and Devils Special Features(Featurettes)

-Alternate Takes Junkyard: Deleted Scenes

-After the Dark Episodes with Max: A mockumentary with Max that's to be seen to be believed

-For My Eyes Only: A mockumentary pilot for a radio show called For My Eyes Only that never really took off, with Max nosing around the business of strangers and her friends(until Max concludes it's not as fun as she thought it'd be and runs like hell from Logan and Tara Colka catching her in the act of stealing twenty five car keys from cars in a car lot)

-The ZFA and the 90's: The biggest inspiration for the ZFA's creation and why

-Dark Angels, the Anti-Christs, and the Devils in the Shadows: The dark symbolism and messages of Of Wolves and Devils, the halfway point with the 2-parter Nightmare on Jesus Street, and Max's continuing struggle with the heart of darkness throughout Of Wolves and Devils

-Creating A Post-Pulse World: Creating the politics and background of the Post-Pulse world, how Sydney's cameo in Fall of the Manticore inspired the shape of the Post-Pulse world going forward, parallels to modern world politics, and the many countries making it up

-Challenging The Law of the Jungle: The Post-Pulse jungle of Dark Angel, before and after the beginning of Of Wolves and Devils

-Max Challenged to the Core: The making of the 2-parter finale Power Play and Max's struggle within herself brought full circle

1) including the original ending cut significantly shorter for time by the network, but kept in Alternate Takes Junkyard

2) the ZFA's biggest Power Play yet pitting Max's core values against each other to the point of emotionally bringing her to the breaking point(Max's survival and how far she'd go to protect her friends no matter what versus faith in what her friends believe and in Mister Eyes Only's vision of hope for better as a whole)

One Gen to Another DVD: Special Features(Audio Commentaries)

-Two behind the scenes audio commentaries for the movie

1) including one from some Fox executives talking about how difficult it was to get through all the copyright mess with Gen^13's movie with Disney and TimeWarner to make this movie possible

2) and a video commentary from most all the actors for Gen^13 and Dark Angel in this, where they're watching it on the screen

One Gen to Another DVD: Special Features(Featurettes)

-Bringing MTV Generation Favorites to the Live Action Screen: The making of One Gen to Another, and most of the mixing of comics and the animated movie in characters and plot

-Genetically Enhanced Brothers and Sisters: More on creating the story, and bringing together the styles of Dark Angel and Gen^13 without much of a clash

-Max in the Middle: More on creating a way for Max to finally meet her mother, and Max's struggle to stay strong and face her self doubts between two different worlds(one of superheroes like Caitlin Fairchild, and one of a mixed Post-Pulse normal life like her mother Anin)

-Comics, Comics, Call Me Maybe: Behind the scenes talk of a limited comic series for Gen^13 and Dark Angel spun off of One Gen to Another(but it turned out the schedules were just too different and licensing for other villains was trickier)

CyberHell DarkSix DVD: Special Features

-there's no audio commentaries, because the copyright mess was in too deep for either side to really agree on much with it

-The Grudge Match That Could: The ironic creation of CyberHell DarkSix over a grudge match for both sides to prove their case(because Cameron's people's conduct was bad enough that the legal case was dropped, and this was what both sides resorted to)

-Why All the Hate?: Interviews with the Dark Angel and live action CyberSix actors about the movie, and struggling to work under all the stress from the legal side of things

-Creating CyberHell: Creating the CyberHell of CyberHell DarkSix, and the path for a more dark CyberSix and Dark Angel combined world.

-Creating DarkSix: Creating the light retelling of CyberSix and Dark Angel in one movie, and staying true to the characters while going into more radically different territory with this CyberHell they're in

* * *

More on Countries That Didn't Make the First Cut of Of Wolves and Devils

-Ukraine and Latvia were also approved as foreign allies

1) after killing the most disliked politicians and their closest family members on both sides(including Viktor Yanukovych) and offering both sides the same deal

2) now with somewhat higher immigration;

from people trying to avoid or escape Belarus altogether(since both countries are still much more on the scamming side of the coin and less violent than Belarus)

-Russia has taken over what's left of the United Nations

-Spain, France and the United Kingdom

1) Spain and France continue to be allies to Andorra, Poland, Austria, and several others in Europe

2) UK and France became strong allies against the ZFA and the countries that have alliances with them

3) and now both back to modern(more or less);

thanks to Great Britain and Canada protected from the Pulse(since Canada is still on friendly terms with Great Britain and Gen^13 greatly helped protect Canada from a Pulse)

4) France-Spain forces though have had very little luck in helping re-modernize the other countries on their side, because of civil unrest and gangs that arose in the wake of the Pulse and refuses to die down easily

5) which is largely unified under the ZFA's ties to crime bosses, and not helped any by the ZFA sometimes coming down singlehandedly to try to wipe out all the opposing military forces

-Africa

1) with high poverty levels and poor technological advances, most of Africa left unaffected and not hit by a Pulse(no more so than present day Africa)

2) only it's also become kind of a stomping ground for a handful of military programs from more corrupt African and mixed heritage government agents and businessmen(the Red Series had been one)

-Greenland, Iceland, Denmark, and Norway

1) it turns out the ZFA didn't hit Iceland or Greenland with the Pulse in 2009, because both didn't have their own armies at the time and so they thought they weren't that big of a threat(because of their military intelligence)

2) as a result, Greenland and Iceland have been helping Denmark and Norway come back from the Pulse(which means Denmark and Norway have respectively become stronger allies with Greenland and Iceland)

3) while Denmark was saved by Greenland's help, Iceland and Norway only prospered and continued to do so(almost as if the Pulse never happened, with Norway one of the top three countries in crude oil)

4) this also caused a rift between Iceland and Greenland in the wake of the Icelandic Parliamentary Election of 2009, with Norway still going with crude oil and worsening the environment in Europe(and Iceland backing them up over Greenland's heated objections)

5) the country of Norway also became more wary of terrorism and gang wars, and implemented countermeasures to face off terrorist attacks in 2011(becoming more of a police state by 2011)

6) but all of this in turn means the ZFA does see them as more of a threat in 2021(and will likely try to hit them too in the 2-parter finale Power Play)

-More on Greenland

1) Greenlanders though didn't offer the same deals to the US or Denmark(partly because of being hit by the Pulse and more slowly recovering from it in both cases)

2) but also because Greenland has had strenuous relations with Denmark and the US when it comes to clean up efforts or modernization efforts; most Greenlanders just don't trust them that much and think history will repeat itself if they did

3) which has left the US and Denmark to fend for themselves on the medical front

-More on Denmark

1) Denmark didn't take it as hard as the US did, because most Danes blame their own country's politicians for being so reliant on modern technology and being more sympathetic for the European Union that it nearly killed their future as a country

2) most politicians across Europe were soon killed, "had accidents", or worse by European criminals(even in Denmark to some degree)

3) because most of everything they used to pay with was on credit(like most of Europe and the US), and their currency the Krone was nearly killed off in the wake of the Pulse since no one but them and Greenland actually uses it for much(and Greenland and Denmark aren't exactly the best of friends)

4) the Danes are proud of themselves otherwise in a Danish fashion, and proud enough to try to press on anyway with their own medical and renewable energy endeavors(even early on in the wake of the Pulse)

5) but, it was only Greenland's willingness for them to come together as equal business partners in a Post-Pulse world that kept Denmark from facing the hardships that most of Europe and the US faced in the wake of the Pulse

6) Denmark was surviving with basic necessities in a year or so with help from profits from Greenland's dark ice industry

7) Denmark and Greenland have gotten along a lot better in light of their Post-Pulse business partnership, even though they can still have heated disagreements from time to time about Greenland rejecting mining operations(or many other plans Denmark try to protest for to get things back the way they want it to be)

8) and meanwhile, Denmark in its national pride is trying to not face the hard truth that Greenland is now with more financial and governmental power than them(and telling them what to do for the most part to survive, which Denmark begrudgingly tries to follow)

-Suriname

1) with unwavering allegiance still to the Netherlands, Suriname was a prime target for anti-American fronts, criminal gangs with loyalty to the ZFA

2) and its own uprisings with poverty going up at staggering levels, due to tourism at a all time low for Suriname and the Netherlands with the Pulse hitting Europe and America

-The Netherlands

1) the Netherlands, with how liberal they are, actually met the ZFA face to face with a more "kinder offer" for the politicians(offering to keep the same freedoms in exchange for adopting their model of society and working together as allies against "western corruption")

2) they turned it down out of quickly realizing their secretive nature is going to restrict their freedoms no matter how much freedom is still in place(or because of insulting them to the very core with implicating America as a enemy they sent a Pulse after), and they paid gravely for it

3) the Netherlands was completely decimated along with every politician, police officer, and military officer, going to the trouble of destroying their whole arsenal out of hating "fellow soldiers in the making" turning on them and "giving into western corruption"(the few that barely escaped became refugees)

* * *

Dark Angel Board Games and Card Games

-Dark Angel chess

1) chess pieces for both sides, where the colors are black and crystalline clear

2) the board has a warehouse like look to it, with a slightly wider board(3 squares to each side to accommodate more pieces, left and right)

3) broken metal fences and mostly white and red stripped roadblocks detailed on the sides of the board

4) Max is the Queen, Logan is the King

5) Faceless Eyes Only agents are the Pawns

6) Tara Colka, Devrom, Syl, and Bling are Knights

7) Anin Janel, Herbal Thought, Charim Dharn, and Diamond are Bishops

8) Sketchy, Original Cindy, Sydney Bloom, and Krit are Rooks

9) the first letters are on a Eyes Only styled decoder ring on the base of each chess piece, but the first two letters for Kings and Knights

10) extra chess pieces for more of the X-5 family that players can use in place of what's already there to make a all X-5 team(or both teams X-5 teams) instead

11) Zack is the King

12) Tinga, Brin, and Zane are Knights

13) Jondy, Ben, and Seth are Bishops

14) Eva, Jace, Bane, and Beka are Rooks

15) extra chess pieces for Duncan and Samantha Bloom that players can use in place of what's already there(from VR.5, VR.9, and the 2-parter Nightmare on St. Jesus Street)

16) Samantha Bloom is a Bishop, and Duncan is a Knight

17) extra chess pieces for Detective Matt Sung, Snuffy Wills, Walter(Sector Cop with Kendra), and Phil that players can use in place of what's already there

18) Detective Matt Sung is a Knight, and Walter is a Bishop

19) Phil(with mech) and Snuffy are Rooks

-Dark Angel versions of Monopoly, the Game of Life, etc.

-C.R.E.A.M: The Card Game

1) rated PG or similar

2) comes with black and silver rimmed player cards to represent the players(characters from season 1 of Dark Angel, Fall of the Manticore, and Of Wolves and Devils to pick from)

3) twenty gold rimmed property cards and asset cards face down on the table(with a price on the back side), two red casino like dice, a deck of two hundred property and asset cards, five thousand dollars worth of play money tokens and bills for each player, and a pool deck of a million to draw from for more play money in play

4) asset cards include vehicles, weapons, Eyes Only and Manticore tech, and Post-Pulse building renovations/upgrades

5) a player picks a property card or a asset card each turn with some of the play money he/she already has, then shows it face up on his/her side of the table; but can't just put it back on the table after getting the card

6) if there's no property card(s) and/or asset card(s) face down on the table, the player with the next turn takes twenty face down from the top of the deck of property and asset to start off the next round

7) whoever gets the most money worth out of their bought cards when all the property cards and asset cards are gone from the deck wins

8) depending on the special abilities of a player card(and how more or less money it gets a player for using them), a player can Sell, Upgrade, or Transform a bought card

9) a player card has two of the above special abilities and a more unique one(but only can do one special abilities each turn)

10) Sell is selling the card to another player for money back out of their money

11) Upgrade is combining a property card with a asset card to add to its worth(represented by money tokens and placing the asset card under the property card with it sticking out a little)

12) Transform is combining two asset cards or two property cards to make more money(represented by money tokens and placing the second asset or property card under the first card with it sticking out a little)

13) how much more is made with transform or upgrade largely depends on the special abilities of the player cards

14) simplified layout of special abilities are as follows:

Sell - Cat Burglar, Target in Sight, Bip Bip Bip!, Don't Surrender Easy

Upgrade - Target in Sight, Eyes On This, Don't Surrender Easy, Bip Bip Bip!

Transform - Cat Burglar, Target in Sight, Eyes On This, Don't Surrender Easy

15) Max has Cat Burglar;

can take another player's bought card without paying if the dice roll is good against the opposing player's roll, but at the risk of letting the opposing player take one of the player's own bought cards without paying if the dice roll isn't good

16) others with this ability under Thief/Gun Collector/Former Extorter/Post-Pulse Treyarch Mastermind;

Diamond, Jondy, Margo Cale, Walter(Former Extorter), Mister Anthony(or rather his shadow; Post-Pulse Treyarch Mastermind), Raul(Gun Collector), Samuel, most everyone from Jean Stim's GN movement unit(except Jean Stim), and most every big crime boss from the series but ZFA members(from season 1 of Dark Angel, Fall of the Manticore, and Of Wolves and Devils, including the unidentified leader of the gang from episode 7 with Hazmat suits posing as a Sector Radiation team)

17) Logan has Eyes on This;

can look at a face down card and not have to pick it up if the dice roll is good against the opposing player's roll and if the player doesn't want it, but at the risk of having to pick up the not so great card and give up one of his/her bought cards to the player who has the next turn if the dice roll isn't good(who is the opposing player in this case)

18) others with this ability under Spyware/Of The Most High/About Damn Time Someone Did/Original Cindy Got This Bitch Figured Out;

Sebastian, Detective Matt Sung, Herbal Thought(Of the Most High), Druid(Of the Most High), Original Cindy(Original Cindy Got This Bitch Figured Out), Phil, Bling, Duncan(from 2-parter Nightmare on St. Jesus Street), Jones Banner, Johannessen(head of the Red Series from Season 1 of Dark Angel), Mollie, the two ladies formerly under Mister Foivann(About Damn Time Someone Did)(from the 2-parter Catz Gotta Play), John McGinnis(when he has his cybernetic eye; from the Of Wolves and Devils 2-parter finale Power Play), and Seth(About Damn Time Someone Did)

19) more on About Damn Time Someone Did;

Mariette with dyed red hair, and Becca with dyed black hair

20) Sydney Bloom has Target in Sight;

can stun a player card of another player for one turn, making the other player lose a turn if the dice roll is good against the other player's roll(but at the risk of losing the next turn if the dice roll isn't good)

21) others with this ability;

Lydia(from Season 1 Pilot and Alternate Takes Junkyard), Melinda Stryker(from Alternate Takes Junkyard), Melissa Stryker, Snuffy Wills, Devrom, most every Eyes Only agent from Of Wolves and Devils except for Charim Dharn(dead and alive), O'Neill, Kalins, Bruno Anselmo, the Red Series, Gregory Jameson, Captain Donatrum, James Cabot, Dan Lans, and everyone in the X-5 family(dead and alive from the series) except Jondy, Bane, Syl, Seth, and Beka

22) scrapped from the game;

Sector Cops troops(all as one player card since not much character given to them for the most part), and Manticore troops(all as one player card since not much character given to them for the most part)

23) Colonel Lydecker has Don't Surrender Easy;

can storm another player's bought cards and freeze them for one turn, making the other player not able to do anything except the more unique ability on the player card for one turn if the dice roll is good against the other player's roll(but at the risk of not able to use his/her player card's special ability for one turn if the dice roll isn't good)

24) others with this ability;

most of the ZFA(including Kai and Cai), Bane, Beka, Tara Colka, Samantha Bloom, Charim Dharn, Madame X, Jean Stim, Crystek Tiralli, and Liraki

25) Normal has Bip Bip Bip!;

can speed up the next player's turn, making him/her can only play with money for that turn if the dice roll is good against the other player's roll(and therefore not let the other player use his/her player card's abilities for that turn, but at the risk of having to lose a hundred dollars times the number rolled on the dice to the opposing player if the dice roll isn't good)

26) others with this ability under Quick Read/Can't Handle the Burn!;

Sketchy, Syl, Kendra, Anin Janel, Dawn Saril, Probert, Kare, Acantra, Toni Cale, Uncle Jonas...and every guy Max almost/did sleep with when in heat including Dike Grovly(Can't Handle the Burn!)

27) but the in heat part not explicitly said on the cards, and instead says "slept together at one time or another" because of PG rating(Logan the exception though because Max actually loves him and isn't just being in heat around him)

* * *

Dark Angel Books

-a anthology book of three mentioned side characters and their stories from Of Wolves and Devils, plus more stories on the side with the main characters of Dark Angel

(-1-) the amusement park owner mentioned from episode 12's own story

1) his amusement park used to be a Mayan themed one, with animatronic idol robots around every corner(when the amusement park owner was just barely middle age)

2) but then in the wake of the Pulse, the military tried to shut down the park on the grounds of "too many accidents"(but really it was staged by the military to shut it down and take the idols for military robot research because they thought the design had potential to be revolutionary in war)

3) the amusement park owner though was actually kind of impressed with their plan; he went as far as turning the idols into robots to drive them away, but by then the damage to the amusement park's popularity was already done

4) the amusement park owner retired a wealthy but conflicted man; he was well protected, but ended up driving any hope of expansion for his business away

5) and so long as the military and Sector Police let him be, he'll let them be in his lingering depression

(-2-) Jenny and Robinson's pasts and their time at the Angelic Hope for Traumatized Children, from their awkward nervousness with their PTSD and each other to confrontations with Samuel and Liraki to finally moving forward into a family to be adopted in together(aftermath included)

(-3-) (not long after episode 18) in recent events, one of the three convention cults left standing have started rebooting their cult as Max Guevera cosplayers, trying to steal whatever they can and killing people in their way; leaving Max kind of torn with if she should go easy on them or not

(-4-) Sketchy tries to make Power Nipple a "more sexual" toy company

1) but it puts Syl close to the edge of dumping him when it's in his nature to flirt with the hot looking women customers

2) they eventually agree to make a store app for computer boxes for more anonymous buyers so that it's best of both worlds for Sketchy(he doesn't keep flirting with customers, and he makes even more money with more anonymous buyers)

3) and they go out on the town to celebrate on a date with just the two of them

(-5-) in California, Herbal is going after his biggest news story yet: Even if it means going into enemy lines

(-6-) a X-5 family party not very long after the 2-parter finale Power Play to celebrate being alive, while Beka and Seth are trying to figure out where to go from here(for work and otherwise)

-A book titled As the New Dawn Comes;

set between Fall of the Manticore and Of Wolves and Devils(a day or so after the several nights later part)

1) there was a outbreak of X-2's

2) a X-1 was kept in cryogenic stasis by the Committee in case Manticore was about to come undone and their secrets revealed, which was purposely a genetically enhanced animal humanoid among several created as a template for all next generation Manticore experiments

2) most of the X-1s either became too unstable to live or were killed off for killing some of the scientists(but either way, they took DNA samples to put into vials)

3) the best animal humanoid out of the X-1's was picked to be in cryogenic stasis(a rat or a cheetah), given samples of every next generation Manticore class of experiments periodically to overtime become a being capable of killing even a X-2 or a X-5 without breaking a sweat

4) in its built up instinctive rage at X-5s though(and by extension Max), it results in a unintentional breakout of X-2s being transported to a British world war II bunker(in the hope of keeping them down there away from civilization)

5) however, with Max's animal side(and understanding X-1's own animal side), she gets it to overreact to its natural predator and get the chance to knock it out so it can go to the bunker(also because most of the X-2s were ironically killed by the X-1's rage)

-A book Titled Hot Runs of a Different Color;

set around early episodes of Of Wolves and Devils

1) with Logan back on his feet with the exoskeleton and Max being a Eyes Only agent with a government ID and all, Margo Cale begins to figure out Logan is connected to Eyes Only(who still hasn't exactly forgiven Eyes Only for kind of taking down the Cale family business(from the episode I and I Am a Camera))

2) and with no big mission coming up, Logan asks Max to talk to Margo about keeping it quiet(since Max has a better shot than him, even though they both don't like Margo much)

3) so Max steals from a random bank to get a few million to bribe Margo to keep quiet and stay on top as a returning socialite, much to Logan's begrudgingly accepting it due to how much like a crime boss's wife Margo really is

4) Margo even came to respect Max more for bribing her and invited her to hang out, which Max of course turned down

5) meanwhile, Herbal, Sketchy, Original Cindy, Syl, Druid, and a few other guys from Jam Pony hang out at Crash talking about possibilities expanding(before the personal fallout with Herbal and Druid after the end of the episode Betrayal on House on the Hill), Syl and Sketchy soon after go on a not so formal date to a local race track, and Normal finds a woman to date that sticks around(that isn't Margo)

-A Eyes Only anthology book of Eyes Only missions going into missions that Max wasn't in(but other agents of Eyes Only going into missions while Max was going on the Eyes Only missions she got)

1) including a chapter in the beginning with mostly Eyes Only training sessions(kind of doubling as a jumping on point for people who haven't seen much of Of Wolves and Devils)

2) including Eyes Only agents from Grace, Amber, and Leith(for Amber and Leith before they were killed in Episode 12, and for Grace before and after Episode 12)

-(possibly)A Eyes Only anthology book of Eyes Only missions going into the future(after the 2-parter finale Power Play of Of Wolves and Devils)

* * *

Dark Angel Season 2/Of Wolves and Devils Soundtrack

1) Magic - (Pussycat Dolls)

2) If I Ruled the World - (Nas and Lauryn Hill)

3) Freedom - (Theme from Panther(with various artists))

4) N.W.A - (F*** tha Police)

5) Ne Ver Ne Boysia Ne Prosi - (t.A.T.u)

6) Fight - (Natalia Barbu)

7) Make Me Crazy - (Scandal 'US)

8) Milkshake - (Kelis)

9) Dynamite - (Taio Cruz)

10) Rockstar - (N*E*R*D)

11) Faster Kill Pussycat - (Paul Oakenfold ft. Brittany Murphy)

12) I.D.G.A.F - (Breathe Carolina)

13) Tantra - (Wishbone)

14) Warrior - (Amber)

15) Truly Madly Deeply - (Savage Garden)

16) No Matter What - (T.I.)

17) Believe Me - (Dima Bilan)

18) We Fit Together - (O-Town)

19) Let it Rock - (Kevin Rudolf ft. Lil Wayne)

20) The One - (Niki Haris)

21) Australian Bonus Track; Last Night on Earth - (Delta Goodrem)

22) European Bonus Track; Sweet People - (Aloysha)

23) European Bonus Track; Die for You - (Antique)

24) Japanese Bonus Track(from One Gen to Another); Juujun Na Slave - (Akb48)

25) Japanese Bonus Track(from One Gen to Another); Rock On - (Nano)

* * *

Main Dark Angel Video Games

-Dark Angel video game(first season)

(-1-) basics

1) no leveling up, but Max can buy more moves(both fighting, scaling, and falling back); many of the scaling and falling back moves really upgraded versions of what Max has already got under slightly different names

2) scaling moves are more cat burglar leaning skills; falling back moves are more retreating a little to hide against a wall or object and heal up a little

3) Max's health meter is a danger meter; similar to the mainstream Max video game, but with her healing able to easily shake off attacks from thugs

4) but in larger numbers, the danger meter goes up relatively more and makes it harder to easily shake it off

5) cash can be used to pay for extra lives(even though a player starts out with just one), and for bursts of speed to take down thugs or the like quicker(but like in the show)

(-2-) there isn't much new missions from the season, but there are bonus rounds and bonus games

1) Max can go to the skate park to do bike tricks to help boost her speed and collect some cash

2)ride around on her bike delivering packages and mail for Jam Pony for some money(timed games)

3) steal black market or military cars and vans to fence for some big cash; but at risk of being shot at by military or hoverdrones(which can really make the danger meter go up)

4) and bungee jump or jump over fences to sneak into apartments to steal artifacts or some big cash; but at risk of being shot at by bodyguards or hoverdrones(which can also really make the danger meter go up)

5) bonus rounds are chase scenes or street races on Max's motorcycle; but losing doesn't mean losing anything, because Max is just that fast on her feet(unless hoverdrones catch a player on street races or a player is shot too much on chases by thugs or military)

-Dark Angel 2 video game(for Of Wolves and Devils)

1) new missions

2) a character select for most every central character and some different missions for each one(from the Eyes Only agent roster and X-5 family; not just Max and Sydney Bloom, but Logan himself also included in this roster)

3) a mission select to replay through previous missions whenever, through Logan's computer box on the camera stand from Nightmare on Jesus St 2-parter(projecting cutscene screenshots of the missions on the wall)

4) and bonus rounds(like with the first Dark Angel video game), but no bonus games from the first video game

5) Max can though collect car parts and weapons in missions to fence for cash at a black market body shop, or hit the casinos to rack up cash(to help buy more moves, extra lives, and bursts of speed)

6) but a player also can get awarded high grade weapons for defeating bosses, which you can then fence for money;

unless a player selects hard mode, where the game doesn't let the player collect car parts and weapons in non-boss levels and just gets car parts and weapons in boss levels

7) no in game cash can be bought with out of game money though

8) the bonus games are mostly all in Midway Parks;

some from the season, some new(including SteelEon and Treelander Invasion)

9) they don't add anything or cost anything, but they can be fun to play with 2-4 players or against the computer

10) there's also three bonus missions altogether that can be found in Logan's apartment in the Eyes Only informant net database;

one for One Gen to Another, one for the book with the X-1, and one for CyberHell DarkSix

11) if a player gets through the Nightmare on Jesus St mission, the player unlocks Samantha Bloom and Duncan as playable characters

12) if a player gets through the Mirror Monsters mission, the player unlocks Devrom as a playable character

13) if a player gets through the Catz and Dogz mission, the player can unlock Shane as a fighting companion

14) if a player gets through the With a Little Hell mission, the player unlocks Tara Colka as a playable character and gets to unlock several Sector Cop related missions in the Post-Pulse America State of Washington area with her

15) if a player gets through the Black Catz and Water Ripples mission, the player unlocks Beka and Seth as playable characters and gets to unlock several missions in South America with each of them

16) if a player wins the One Gen to Another mission;

the player gets to unlock some concept art and rough drafts of tie-in Gen^13/Dark Angel comics involving more of Gen^13's villains that never took off

17) but a player can also choose to play as a Gen^13 member instead before going into the One Gen to Another mission if the player forks over some in game cash(Caitlin Fairchild, Roxy, or Grunge)

18) if a player wins the X-1 mission;

the player gets to choose whether to knock out and send the X-1 to the bunker for a ton of cash, or tame and keep the X-1 as a fighting companion to help fight enemies with

19) but a player can also choose which X-1 is the one X-1 the player goes up against before going in if the player forks over some in game cash

20) if a player wins the CyberHell DarkSix mission;

the player gets to unlock the original Cybersix from the animated series as a playable character(only less cartoony looking for the video game), as well as CyberHell DarkSix characters(alternate Max, alternate Logan, alternate Zack, alternate Cybersix, and Data-7 as a fighting companion)

21) more dark red, more dark green, and more dark purple cobblestone look to missions when playing one of them(aka a CyberHell look)

22) for most of the Power Play mission until the final fight, it's all bonus rounds

23) even the boss fight with Jean Stim, Scalpel, and PennyBlade kind of is one

24) a player is not expected to win this boss fight;

but the longer a player lasts, the more money a player racks up that the player can spend on more lives and bursts of speed just before the next level that isn't a bonus round(aka the final fight)

* * *

More on Dark Angel 2 Video Game Missions Not Officially From Of Wolves and Devils Eps

1) Post-Pulse India, Russia, and other countries in far east hi-tech and rich in women and money, but even more corrupt and torn from within than the western world had become(aside from Japan and China)

2) even most of their cities and governments collapsed;

only exceptions are China and Russia

3) ZFA good business partners with Russia and let them do whatever they want in their country in exchange for technology and technological integration with Chinese technology(because the ZFA aren't really scientists, nor have much scientists of their own)

4) resistance fighters mostly fled to deserts;

runaways just looking to live their own lives in peace live out in desert communities, including artificially made oases(thriving with villages, after several years of grueling work by independent companies that fled and people that have stuck by them in a Post-Pulse world)

5) a mission where a Eyes Only agent(s) comes to a country to protect a witness, and get to the bottom of suspicious activity of the United Nations(only for it turn out to be taken over by Russians)

6) I Corporation is a Russian corporation, specializing in hitmen and hitwomen who copy the fighting styles of famous and infamous agents in a Post-Pulse world to stay toe to toe with them(and try to rival the ZFA on their own territory)

7) but to keep anonymity, they give their operatives codenames after animals(which they give to someone else if a operative dies); like Beetle, Gekko, and Bear(though maybe not all of their names?)

8) their operatives also wear very dark grey cloaks and robotic like masks with bright blue or bright red glowing eyes(really scanner equipped eyes and not really robotic)

9) Krit is captured by I Corporation to try to revert him back to his original X-5 brainwashing to be a all too willing hitman against the ZFA(who are beginning to pick off their numbers or beat them to their hits)

10) unfortunately for the I Corporation, Krit makes himself forget everything he knows including them so as to not be brainwashed(with help from first hand experience with Canadian secret services)

11) Krit goes on offensive despite the brainwashing attempt and takes down the I Corporation guys around where he's being kept by himself;

but that also means he doesn't recognize Max at first when she goes in with Syl to try to break him out and so he makes a run for it

12) a mission where now Max and Syl have to stop Krit from becoming a killer by getting him to remember who he is before there's no going back;

as in stop him from killing thousands of innocent people in a massacre from feeling like a caged animal in the chaotic tech led Russian cities

13) meanwhile, the Russian secret services and police are taking advantage of I Corporation's recent chaos and trying to arrest them all

14) which means anyone Max and Syl try to grab up and get to talk about where to find the I Corporation or Krit will lead to the secret services and police on their tail(and with the Russian police tired of the corruption or not caring who dies so long as the paperwork is finished, most of them aren't going to listen to Eyes Only)

15) a mission going to South Africa, but originally just for recon to be sure more government projects like the Red Series or the guys who supplied implants to Manticore aren't going on there

16) it turns sour quick when it turns out to be taken over by the I Corporation and that they put a trap for Max or any Eyes Only agent(a little house with scorching heat for a heating system with a loudspeaker on a pre-recording of some guys calling for help, who are already dead)

17) and a I Corporation hitman named Salamander; who likes things hot and gets sick pleasure out of recording his victims's voices before he kills them

18) some mission where a Eyes Only agent(s) go to India

19) a Sector Cop mission with a street gang with invisible cloak hooded sweatshirts that have been taking Post-Pulse wrestlers unconscious with knockout gas and kidnapping them in the hope of holding them up for ransom

20) that turns out to be led by a guy who has direct ties to the national Post-Pulse American wrestling tournament and is trying to get enough finances to start up a criminal organization with the wrestlers loyal to him(and hi-tech gadgets with said money)

21) and a woman reporter gets kidnapped for finding out, after following one of the wrestlers going by the nickname of Bouldercrush

22) Bouldercrush is a big muscled guy on steroids that has become bad tempered, given himself a boulder like suit of armor, and who sees himself as "the greatest champion of America"

23) but he's been going after people in the mastermind guy's way and killing them because he thinks they're "living boulders that should be crushed back down to earth"

24) Tara Colka stops him though, and Max doesn't have to come in to stop him

* * *

Dark Angel Video Game: Cyber Skin Game

-a Dark Angel fighting game mostly in the style of Super Smash Brothers combined, with more Teen rated violence and most of the game basics from the main Dark Angel video games(including in game cash and the danger meter)

1) a alternate timeline of Of Wolves and Devils set shortly after the 2-parter Nightmare on Jesus St., where Sydney and Samantha try to create a program to track and hack the ZFA's implants directly with help from VR.5 to VR.9 technology(in the hope of ending the ZFA quickly before anyone else gets hurt)

2) the only problem is that it goes both ways;

the ZFA's allies start to hack Sydney and Samantha's brains, hoping to turn them into new henchwomen to end Eyes Only from the inside

3) but then Max and Logan catch the ZFA's allies in the act over cyberspace, and they go in themselves to try to save Sydney and Samantha

4) and suddenly, this all turns into a game of VR battles to the death for the future of the Post-Pulse world

5) playable characters include every playable character from C.R.E.A.M: The Card Game(both sides, except for the ones dead since Season 1 and Fall of the Manticore including Zack and Madame X), the original CyberSix unlockable character from Dark Angel 2 video game and Data-7 as his own unlockable character(not a fighting companion), Shane as her own unlockable character(not a fighting companion), and alternate CyberHell versions of characters except for Zack(since dead since Fall of the Manticore)

6) also playable characters from One Gen to Another;

all Gen^13 members after One Gen to Another's end(including Rainmaker, Burnout, and Bliss), and Threshold

7) the more non-fighter characters though have fighting powers now(since VR battles and all where anything is possible)

8) the VR arenas are just about from every mission from Of Wolves and Devils and One Gen to Another to other countries that didn't make the first cut of Of Wolves and Devils, castles, western towns, and outer space

9) but not all playable characters and VR arenas are unlocked(more are unlocked as the player goes on)

10) power ups are with weapons, armor, and vehicles playable characters can use

11) vehicles from just about every mission from Of Wolves and Devils(including Eyes Only ramjets and ZFA scramjets) to armed shuttlecraft and armed hoverdrones

12) weapons go from rifles and pistols to VR swords and VR laser blasters

13) armor goes from VR medieval styled armor in the playable character's favorite color(s) to tank plated armored astronaut suits

14) the game's story ends when the ZFA or Eyes Only wins

15) if the ZFA win, it cuts to a cutscene of the ZFA's allies mind controlling Eyes Only to take over the Post-Pulse world alongside the ZFA(before the ZFA kills all the mind controlled Eyes Only agents out of hate for "westerners")

16) if Eyes Only wins, it cuts to a cutscene of Eyes Only getting all the ZFA to stand down and liberating every ZFA controlled country, much celebrations to be had, hundreds of thousands to millions spared from death from the ZFA and a second chance for most newer ZFA recruits(under close watch by Eyes Only for security reasons)


End file.
